


Born Free

by KiwiWitch



Series: Eye of the Storm [1]
Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming of Age, Gen, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Post-Canon, Shinto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-02-08 12:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 72,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiWitch/pseuds/KiwiWitch
Summary: At the moment of birth, her heart had been ripped from her chest, her freedom stolen, her life bound by chains until a few precious moments in a field covered in flowers.Or so they'd thought.





	1. Prologue

At first, there was violence.

 

Twisted and pulled and thrown and stretched without purpose or direction. No sense of how or where or why or when.

 

Deaf and blind to the world―if there  _ was  _ a world beyond that suffocating silence―if there was anything left of her beyond the memories slipping away with each moment spent in the void, no sensation beyond the incessant vertigo.

 

If she'd had lungs to scream she would have. Instead, choked by nothing, no ground to dig her nails into, no dirt nor fists to beat in a show of rage. No release from her own fury.

 

Then, suddenly, there was warmth.

 

It enveloped her in an embrace so tender, so full and so complete she would have wept if she'd had the tears to shed. If she still knew what it meant to cry. In that embrace she found her sense of direction, could finally right herself against the sensation of hot and cold, could orient herself along the eddies and strings of power, no longer torn beyond her control.

 

It spoke to her, a voice that transcended sound, soothing words to appease her battered soul and weary heart:

 

_ “Not to worry, I will make things right.” _

 

With no voice nor lips to answer, she merely clung to it, as fiercely as her ghost would allow.

 

_ “Rest,”  _ it said.

 

So she did.


	2. I. Day One

Dead.

 

The thought did not inspire in him the elation or glee that he assumed the humans felt; but there was a sensation of warmth moving through his veins that had been cold adrenaline only minutes before. 

 

Naraku was gone, little trace of him left in the physical world besides the scars that had been gouged into the earth by his shouki. That and the shell shocked expressions of the humans, unsure of what to do now that their nemesis was dead. Without a goal, they were frozen, staring at the void that had once been the Bone Eater's Well. Stunned not only by the battle, but the abrupt disappearance of their two companions.

 

Kagome, sucked into the meidou by the jewel’s will, and Inuyasha, who had readily leapt in to save her.

 

Rin stood only a few feet from him, uninjured, though a tremble in her shoulders betrayed the strong front she was trying to convey. She had been unconscious for most of the battle, and the days preceding it, but there was no doubt that Magatsuhi's hold on her would have left some scars on her psyche. Sesshoumaru was not one to comfort, and he respected that she was trying to appear strong but offered no hand or word to console her. She would only need time, and all would be right again.

 

Safe. Unhurt. Unlike her tears, her blood did not scent the air. 

 

The others were still frozen, unsure of what to do in their friend's absence and obvious peril. Even Jaken was unusually silent, staring in shock at the empty space the hanyou had occupied. 

 

Rin let out an errant sniffle and it seemed to spur the others into motion. Kohaku came to her side within seconds, a soothing hand resting on her shoulder as his sister tentatively approached as well. A concerned frown marred her brow, and only furthered her bedraggled appearance; dirt and dried blood smeared across her face, her loose hair matted by sweat. He only knew by the scent of her that the black suit she wore hid all injuries beneath, though she did not let her face betray any pain.

 

“Are they… are they dead?” Rin’s timid voice broke the silence, the words bubbled in her throat from the effort to stop her sobs.

 

The demon slayer paused in front of Rin, her eyes slid to Sesshoumaru, looking to him for an answer. He felt the monk and the kitsune eyeing him as well―he didn’t like the responsibility they were placing on him in place of his brother―but he gave a subtle shake of his head nonetheless.

 

The demon slayer's eyes seemed to light up at that and she sank into a squat. “No, Rin, they'll come back. Inuyasha and Kagome are strong. They'll make it.” She seemed to say it more for herself, but Rin’s posture straightened and she gave the woman a wet smile of relief. Rin wrinkled her nose when Sango pulled on the cloth covering her palms in order to wipe the snot and tears running down her face. “Rin, I'm sorry about earlier, I never meant to put you in danger.”

 

Rin let out a sound of confusion but nodded, still trying to contain her sniffles.

 

The demon slayer gave Rin one last reassuring smile before she stood and faced him finally, her eyes downcast. “Sesshoumaru…” 

 

She addressed him without a title, but it didn’t bother him much. She sought death, a repentance for endangering Rin. Out of dignity, he knew he should take her life, but as his eyes slid over to the little girl still wiping at her eyes, he found that he didn't care. He couldn't find the energy to swing his sword or even flex his claws. Sesshoumaru merely rolled his eyes and stepped away from her, his distance making the point clear that he had no intention to seek vengeance from her. Rin was safe. That was all that mattered.

 

An unspoken tension seemed to break, Kohaku and the monk released audible sighs of relief before coming to stand beside her. Sesshoumaru did not turn as quiet murmurs of victory swept through the trio. Tears of joy, smiles, the humans so glad for the defeat of their enemy, but concern for their friends laced through the words unsaid.

 

The bright blue of the sky began to peak through the clouds, a gentle breeze came through the clearing, tugging at his hair. A lightness began to bloom in his chest, Sesshoumaru didn’t want to acknowledge that it might have been joy. A death was a death, but a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He watched the wind move through the trees as the others around him took score of the damage and their injuries. The wind was whipping the salty scent of their tears around him, and as much as that smell grated on his nerves, he couldn't bring himself to leave. Rin and his retainer were here, and he  _ knew _ Inuyasha and the Miko would be returning soon. 

 

The wind was getting stronger. 

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two white feathers dancing on the eddys. He watched as they drifted, allowed himself to be reminded of the one who had not survived to see this day. Warmth moved through his bones, the silent guilt pouring off his skin. If he allowed it, he was content.

 

_ It was not in vain. _

 

The winds strength only continued to intensify, as if answering his unspoken thought; the trees began to scream with the force of it. Leaves swirled before him, whipped into a tornado of dust, and the humans finally began to notice. 

 

Sesshoumaru shook himself out of his thoughts, he tensed and placed a hand on Bakusaiga. 

 

This was not the gentle warm breeze he had grown accustomed to. The one that had followed him for months, the one that had spurred him on and enveloped him in warmth when he needed rest. These winds were growing hotter by the second, a yowling, whipping gust, as it began to pick up the remnants of the battle.

 

He tried to determine the source of the wind, he could detect no youki and see no miasma. The screeching continued without apparent cause or center. 

 

“Sesshoumaru-sama!” Rin called for him, but her voice was stolen away by the gusts. Sango grabbed the girl around the waist as she used the nekomata as a shield from the debris that threatened to knock her down. Kohaku, Jaken, and the kit took hold of A-Un's reins, while the monk struggled to keep his footing against the lashing winds.

 

“What is going on?!” Sango yelled above the noise. 

 

The winds began to coalesce, whipped in a frenzy in one spot in the center of the clearing, not far from where the well had been. Clumps of dry earth, leaves, and other bits of forest minutia circled them, being drawn into whatever power called them. And then it was not just their surroundings being sucked in, but― 

 

_ Flesh?! _

 

Bakusaiga and Tessaiga should have insured that all trace of the half breed had been eradicated, poisoned and rotted through or sent to the void. Yet the clods of pale, doughy substance being dragged in the void of the tornado spoke otherwise.

 

“He's not dead?!” Came the monk's call. Even above the screeching air he could hear the human's sounds of shock and disbelief.

 

If Naraku lived, that meant his brother and the Miko had failed; killed or trapped in the meidou. 

 

The onslaught continued, the wind continued to screech and howl around them, pulling more mass into itself. Sesshoumaru drew Bakusaiga as a light began to erupt from the center of the swirling vortex; a bright blinding blue. He could make out the silhouette of a figure there, but was unable to make out the features. It didn’t matter. Sesshoumaru would not sit idle as Naraku reformed himself, he would end this. He charged forward, sword ready and held over his left shoulder.

 

He swung.

 

And was met with familiar eyes.

 

_ No. _

 

Sesshoumaru froze, the muscles of his arm straining to stop the arc of his swing, Bakusaiga’s edge only a hair’s breadth away from slicing through a pale neck.

 

_ Impossible. _

 

Her eyes were clouded, unseeing. Slowly, she blinked, but the action seemed involuntary. She moved as if frozen, the action disjointed when her head tilted to the side. Her gaze moved over his face and then to the humans behind him without recognition and without notice of the blade still poised at her throat.

 

“Kagura…?” Kohaku’s voice came from beside him, hesitant. Sesshoumaru slowly lowered his sword.

 

The sound of her name sent something like life to flash through her eyes, finally. She blinked owlishly, whatever shroud that had held her suddenly pulled away and she regained herself. She raised her hands before her face, flexed her fingers experimentally, took a deep breathe. Then another. She paid no attention to the eyes that watched her as she raised a fist to rest against her breast, her knuckles white from tension.

 

“I… I'm…” she gasped, a tremor shooting down her spine. 

 

She began to fall then, losing the strength of her legs she toppled forward, her hand still clutched at her breast. Without thought, Sesshoumaru dropped his sword and caught her by the shoulders. Bakusaiga hit the dirt with an angry clatter as he stared at the top of her head, unsure of what to do next, too shocked and hesitant to do anything but stare at her. Inky black hair fell in waves across her shoulders and down her bare back. Beneath the tresses, scarred skin. 

 

Kagura gasped, choking on air as her body continued to shake. One trembling hand came up to grip onto the front of Sesshoumaru's armor for support, her fingers dug into the space between his chest piece and his robes; not fully aware of who they belonged to as her forehead came to rest against the cool steal of his breastplate.  _ Alive,  _ repeated in her mind like a mantra. She was alive. Her heartbeat thudded loudly in her ears; like an enraged river, it screamed for her attention and shut out any other sounds. She felt herself lowered to her knees, suddenly aware that someone was  _ touching  _ her, hot hands on her shoulders; her grip on the armor tightened until her knuckles turned white―as she struggled to focus her vision. 

 

“What kind of trick is this?” Sesshoumaru hissed through clenched teeth finally, he did not release her; only slowly sank into a crouched position before her, setting her stable on her knees. 

 

She snapped her head up at the sound of his voice, her eyes meeting his. For a moment it appeared as if she didn’t recognize him, her brow furrowed, her eyes flicked between his as she searched his face. Then, a sudden realization sunk in, her eyebrows raised and her lips parted into an “O” of shock, possibly embarrassment. Kagura curled tighter into herself, the hand on her breast tightened, but she only pulled herself closer with the hand still fisted on his armor.

 

“Sesshoumaru…” And then just as suddenly, she tore her gaze away, her eyes on the dirt between her knees.

 

How long had it been since he'd heard her voice? The sound of his name on her lips sent a tiny jolt through his spine. She flinched when his grip on her shoulders tensed quickly, then released. 

 

“Kagura.” 

 

Slowly, she raised her head to look at him again. He met her gaze, searched for any betrayal, any sign that she was not who her face told him she was. Her expression told him nothing, her face a mirror of the shock he was trying to suppress. He could hardly breath as he tried to contain the expression of his face, the confusion and trepidation. 

 

He had had always taken care to never spend too much time analyzing her face. Her scent could tell him enough, but now he found himself unable to decipher it. Hadn't they just witnessed the leftover pieces of Naraku's flesh knit themselves back together? So why did she no longer― 

 

“Um…” It was the demon slayer this time, her face a wide array of the same shock and awe he and the wind sorceress felt. They both turned their gaze to her and Sango's eyes flicked to Sesshoumaru, who had yet to move away, and she brandished a large bolt of violet cloth. Sesshoumaru recognized the monk's Okesa*, and that the woman before him was once again not fully clothed. Jaken and the kit being the only males who seemed unconcerned with her state of undress.

 

Sesshoumaru moved to release her as the demon slayer approached. As his hands moved from her shoulders, Kagura's hold on his armor tightened slightly, causing him to pause. She glanced at him, as if realizing what she'd done and unclenched her fist, she averted her eyes towards Sango. Sesshoumaru stood and retrieved Bakusaiga as the demon slayer draped the cloth over Kagura’s shoulders. He resheathed the blade and turned away from the two. Kohaku and the monk had turned away from the scene as well, giving Kagura some modicum of privacy. Although he knew they were all alert, Rin being the only one slowly edging closer.

 

“Thank you,” Kagura murmured, the words strange in her mouth. She kept her focus on the ground, as Sango reached an arm over her shoulders to secure the cloth around her. Her breathe was still slightly erratic, and there was a residual tremor across her spine. “What… what happened?”

 

Sango furrowed her brow. “I wanted to ask you that.” She glanced up at the others around them, Rin now standing several feet away. “We all saw you die…” 

 

“Yes,” Kagura said through pursed lips, “I remember that.” She raised her head slightly to look up at the head of silver hair facing away from her. “But just now, something big happened…” 

 

“Naraku is dead,” Sesshoumaru supplied.

 

It didn’t inspire the reaction he had been expecting. He had expected a gasp, a shout of joy, but instead Kagura merely let out an unsteady breath. “Good.”

 

He turned to look over his shoulder slightly, catching a brief glimpse of a joyful smile flitting across her face. He quickly averted his gaze. 

 

“But Kagura, how are you… alive?” Sango pressed again.

 

The smile faded and she pursed her lips in thought. “I don't know.” She ignored the human girl with awestruck eyes that was nearly in her lap, Rin knelt next to her in the dirt, her mouth hung open in awe as she stared. Kagura opened her tightly fisted right hand, revealing two white feathers. “I remember sensations… I felt something pulling me and then I… could see.”

 

“Is it deception?” 

 

Sesshoumaru turned to the monk who had come to stand beside him, his back still turned towards the trio.

 

He sniffed lightly, Naraku's scent had vanished. He shook his head towards the monk.

 

“So, it is  _ her _ , then?”

 

Sesshoumaru parted his lips to reply―

 

“Don't talk about me as if I'm not here!”

 

He nodded. “It is.”

 

A shout rang out, the old miko hobbled over a hill and into the well clearing, eliciting an answering call from the monk. He met her halfway, they conversed in hushed tones regarding the outcome of the battle, casualties and damage in the village that were miraculously hardly significant. The monk gestured to the wind sorceress, explained who she was, but the old miko seemed unconcerned with any danger she might pose. 

 

With that, the humans began to move, gathering themselves to retreat to their surrogate homes to lick their wounds. Sesshoumaru ordered Rin to follow them, their medicines, treatment, and food―she had been in Magatsuhi's grips for nearly a week―better than anything Sesshoumaru could offer her. And after the day's events he supposed four walls and a hearth fire would be good for the girl. He did not order Jaken to follow her, and she had given him a look of uncertainty that bordered on betrayal, the fear that he would leave her behind again clear on her face. Even as she resolutely took the demon slayer's hand and followed them towards the village, she continued watching him from over her shoulder until he was out of sight. 

 

Kagura followed, no other options open to her, she tied the monk's robe around her neck to hide her nakedness and stiffly walked into the village with as much confidence as a toddler. Kohaku was quick to offer her a steadying hand, though she waved him off with a grimace. Her legs were unsteady and hardly had the strength to carry herself, and he supposed that it might very well be right to call her a newborn. As if hearing his thought, she sent him one last glance, her lips set in a hard line and her chin steadier than the rest of her before she turned away.

 

The walk back to the village seemed too long, too many of the trees that usually gave life to the forest had succumbed to the miasma, and now more than half of the forest was nothing but deadwood standing. The spindly blackened and burned branches reached out for her as she passed, snagging the robe loosely draped around her frame. Kagura pulled the cloth tighter around her waist and ignored the raising hair on her arms or the sticks that looked too much like spider's legs. She focused on following the bobbing gray hair of the old miko.

 

She entered Kaede's makeshift hut with some apprehension, but was too weak to protest as Kohaku held open the curtain for her and feeling a strange exhaustion in her limbs. Without a word she sank into the hay piled in the corner and cocooned herself within the monk's robes. She did not sleep, instead she watched the comings and goings of the humans as they treated their injuries. 

 

Rin and the fox kit sat immediately next to her, the nekomata curled up and napping in the fox's lap. This confused her until she realized that the girl had grown used to the companionship of youkai, she seemed uneasy even around the humans currently handing her bowlfuls of rice and salted fish and gently admonishing her for eating too quickly because she would make her stomach sick. As for the fox, Kagura wasn't sure, maybe he missed youkai company. Or maybe she was just the strongest person in the room, though she didn't feel like it, with her limbs feeling like lead weights and her heart heavy between her ribs. Maybe that's what being alive really felt like, but she couldn't clearly remember.

 

She remained there, a silent spectre wrapped in violet, until Kohaku returned from a walk in the village with a hemp yukata folded on his arm. Grateful for the opportunity to remove the Okesa, she quickly changed, picked the stray pieces of hay out of her hair and tied it back into its usual bun. She tucked her feathers into the bind, glad that the plumes had followed her spirit.

 

While the humans were busy wrapping themselves in bandages and poultices, and retelling the chain of events that had been the last battle for what must have been the fifth time, Kagura finally got up the energy to slip out. Her departure, thankfully, went unnoticed.

 

The sun began to set as she gently made her way out of the village, trying to get away from the suffocating smell of humans, their blood soaked clothing, and the smoke of their hearths. Kagura found a surviving patch of grass on a hill overlooking the village and collapsed onto it in relief. She sank into the cool grass, gripping the blades between her fingers and digging her toes into the dirt. 

 

With a hand over her breast she felt the steady thump of her heart; a testament to her return to life. She watched as the sky transitioned from a pale blue to pink to violet and then finally a star strung inky blackness, relishing in the sound of her own heartbeat. Like a drum, it beat against her ribcage, hard and heavy in her chest where once the had been nothing but a dull, hollow ache. She couldn't help the smile that spread across her cheeks. 

 

Freedom. No fatal wounds, no stink of miasma or poison running through her veins. Just her and the night sky full of glittering stars. Even with an uneasy dread hanging over her, a fear of her sire's return, she found that it didn't much matter in the face of that feeling.

 

Each breathe she took was deep and measured, pulling cool spring air into her lungs. How long had it been since she'd had eyes to witness such a thing as a sunset or the night sky? How long had she drifted with only base sensations? The feeling of heat and cold, of wet and dry, of silk and― 

 

She tensed.

 

― _ power. _

 

“It's rude to stare.”

 

He emerged from the tree line behind her without so much as a sound. A beacon of light amongst the trees, his hair and robes reflecting the starlight and the waning crescent moon just above the horizon. 

 

Kagura watched him approach and stop only a few feet from her, she met the eyes that were burning holes through her. Something familiar about him looking down on her with such a strange expression she couldn't quite name.

 

She turned away when the yukata began to itch. Now  _ that  _ was a sensation she hadn't missed.

 

“You were dead.” Well, straight to the point then.

 

“Heh, was I?” There was an amused lilt to her voice. She drew her knees to her chest, her toes wiggling in the dirt. “I’m not so sure of that.”

 

“I was aware.”

 

She turned her head to rest her cheek on her arms and look up at him. He was still watching her, and she felt suddenly self conscious as she realized what he had implied. “Ah,” Kagura shrugged, “I had some sense of… youki. Yours was easy to follow.” Not a complete lie.

 

He said nothing to that, his eyes only narrowed slightly, 

 

“You felt his demise, then?” 

 

She began to feel claustrophobic, with his standing over her as he was. Kagura stood with some difficulty and stretched her arms over her head. She was surprised to realize that he had gotten closer, now less than two feet from her. 

 

“I did. But it wasn't my will that returned me to the flesh. Something else pulled me back together.” She remembered… a voice? It was difficult to drag the memory from the depths of her mind.

 

There was a pause as he thought. His eyes did not leave her face. “Naraku?”

 

Kagura chuckled. No, there had been too much comfort for that. “I would think reviving his most disobedient underling would be poor planning, wouldn't it?”

 

He said nothing to that and she ignored his stern face.

 

“You are oddly trusting of me, though, Sesshoumaru. I would think you'd be more suspicious.”

 

She thought she heard a snort but he had turned away from her. “You no longer stink of him.” 

 

“Ho? A blessing isn't it? Especially to one with a nose such as yours.” She took a step towards him until she could nearly feel the heat radiating off of him. His eyes narrowed as he glanced back. She had almost always been the one to seek him out, but it had always been him who closed the distance between them; he set the rules for their interactions. Even now, trying as he was to appear impassive, cautious, she didn't miss the way his posture straightened, or the way his gaze moved over her as she leaned towards him. “Tell me, then, Sesshoumaru, what do I smell of now?”

 

He looked down on her, examining those warm eyes that were now only inches away. Had she ever stood this close to him? He knew it was a tease, her proximity and the mirth dancing in her gaze. She was testing him. And he found himself taking the bait, as he took several deep breaths, deciphering the new scent of her. The temptation to close his eyes took him, but he resolutely kept her stare. He pulled the air in through his nose, her essence enveloped him. It was… sweet. Yet, something pungent and electric buzzed underneath; a humid summer day, the musk of wet earth, damp vegetation, the smell just before― 

 

“A storm.” 

 

Her eyebrows slowly raised. She did not step away from him, though she was acutely aware of how close they were. Even with the cold armor he wore, she took some comfort from his heat, and he made no move to push her away or retreat. So she stood stock still, only inches from him, their eyes locked. She remembered him then, when he had come to her in her last moments, those eyes that had looked upon her with… concern? Pity? Fear? She couldn't clearly remember, but their intensity now was much the same and she found herself unable to look away.

 

The quick pitter patter of small feet reached them, and they both took a step back.

 

“Sesshoumaru-sama?”

 

Rin stood below them on the path from the village. A great mass of cloth slung over her shoulder and head, the bulk of it nearly impossible for the girl to hold.

 

“Rin, what is that?” Sesshoumaru asked, having finally removed his gaze from Kagura's face.

 

“It's, ah, Kagome-sama's. I think they called it a ‘sleep bag’?” She tried to hold it curiously before her, but the majority of it fell to the ground in a heap. “They said since she's not here, I could borrow it.”

 

“They know you’re here?”

 

“I couldn't sleep. And, houshi-sama walked me most of the way!” 

 

And so he had, the two youkai affirmed as they spotted Miroku's form retreating back towards the village. Sesshoumaru cursed himself for not noticing either of them before Rin's approach. He walked towards the girl and retrieved what was left of the thing from the ground, handing it back to her in a ball.

 

“Do you intend to remain in this village, Kagura?” He asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

 

Kagura shrugged. “I have no intention of anything. I can do whatever I want. I’m free.”

 

Sesshoumaru spared her one last glance before he began to walk towards the tree line. Rin fell into step behind him, she shot Kagura a toothy grin and a “good night, Kagura-sama!” which merely earned her a scoff in return.

 

Just before they reached the edge of the forest, Sesshoumaru stopped and turned to her, his eyes moved over her form and then swept over their surroundings before he finally spoke:

 

“Various youkai have been prowling nearby since the battle this morning, looking for the jewel most likely.” 

 

“Ho?” She called after him, “Is that you telling me to ‘be careful’?”

 

She was not surprised when he did not respond, merely turned away from her without a second glance, the little girl quick on his heels as they disappeared into the shadows of the trees. 

 

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Kagura went back to watching the stars.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Okesa: a Buddhist robe, warn by monks across the shoulder. It's the purple cloth Miroku wears.


	3. I. Day Two

"Rest.”

 

_Who had that been?_

 

With the sunrise came anxiety, the hair on her arms standing on end, a feeling of unease washing over her and her stomach turning in knots. The long spring night had brought no answers and no indication of what was going on in the world beyond, whether or not the hanyou and the miko were dead or if Naraku would return.

 

On one hand, she knew that she should run, to be sure that if he lived he would never find her. By now she could be on the other side of the world, or at least near the mainland, free and without the cloud of doubt hanging over her head.

 

But, if he returned, and she ran, she would never know it. She would be blissfully ignorant of the danger, not knowing if or when he would come for her.

 

Kagura hadn’t decided which was the better option.

 

So instead she chose passivity, she remained on the grassy hill until well after the sun began its upward climb. She watched as the village awoke, smoke overtook the sky as the menfolk left their homes to appraise the damage from the day before. In the sunlight, the scars were obvious. Ricefields dry and barren, vegetation scorched, the canal barely a trickle, several homes destroyed, nothing left but burnt timbers and scant foundation.

 

Humans were nothing if not obstinate, despite the damage, the months it would take to make up for the wreckage; the men still went out at dawn to salvage the fields while the women stayed behind, trying to save whatever was left of their food stuffs to make it through the next few weeks, possibly even months that it would take to eradicate the effects of Naraku’s poisons on their fields.

 

From her perch she spotted the monk and the slayer making their rounds between houses; every so often they would stop, converse with one of the villagers. The monk placed ofudas on several homes, while the slayer would help the menfolk move some of the rubble. The old miko wasn’t far behind them, but her help was relegated to medicine; the exchange of herbs or the tightening of a bandage happened several times during their walk.

 

Kagura snorted, despite their injuries and exhaustion, they still went about trying to help. Self-righteous, she thought, given the battle yesterday. They should be relishing in their victory, being pampered by the villagers they’d saved from the hell on earth that Naraku would have wrought, not going out of their way and possibly furthering their own injuries.

 

Hn, maybe she'd inherited more from him than she'd thought.

 

The humans continued on like that, until the monk nudged his fiancee and their course veered towards her. Kagura grumbled internally, but didn’t have the nerve to move.

 

“Good morning!” The monk called cheerfully, and Kagura fought the urge to laugh. That’s what they were now? Comfortable enough to shout human pleasantries at each other? She only answered with a huff, despite the timid smiles upon their faces.

 

“How are you feeling?” It was the taijiya speaking then, her voice ernest and laced with concern.

 

Kagura wondered when _that_ had started. “More like myself I suppose,” she said with a shrug, “but who knows, I can’t remember well enough to tell. I see you two have been making yourselves useful.”

 

“We have! The village will need a lot of repairs, but I think everyone is up to it.” The monk turned to look over his shoulder back down towards the fields, a wistful smile tugging on his lips. “It is spring after all, a time for rebirth and renewal, don’t you think?”

 

She eyed him carefully, his uncovered right hand held his shakujou loosely, the skin still bruised purple. Hn, maybe so.

 

“Awfully chipper, aren't you? Inuyasha and the girl still haven't returned.”

 

His face tightened. “I have faith in them.”

 

She held back a snort and merely averted her eyes. So optimistic.

 

“Kagura, I wanted to speak with you actually,” Sango said, a slight tremor in her voice as she fiddled with her sleeve. “I didn't get a chance to yesterday, do you have a moment?”

 

Kagura stared at the slayer, then gave a hesitant nod. What else did she have to do, anyway? Sango smiled and sat next to her on the grass, the monk took that as his cue to leave and headed back towards the village, the jingling of his staff fading as he went.

 

Sango had a pensive look on her face, her brows furrowed as she stared at her hands. The minutes of silence dragged on as Kagura watched her, uncomfortable.

 

“Well?”

 

“I…” Sango turned to her, “I wanted to thank you.”

 

Kagura grimaced. “For what?”

 

“For saving Kohaku, for protecting him from Hakudoushi, if you hadn't―”

 

With a snort Kagura waved her hand at the woman and looked away over her shoulder. “Don't bother with your gratitude, I don't need it.”

 

“I know you might not appreciate it, but I _am_ grateful,” she said earnestly, “And I felt horrible that we couldn't help you, I went off to find Kohaku so fast, I didn't know that you―”

 

“Stop it.”

 

“Kagura, you _died._ ”

 

“Well, obviously I didn't, or else we wouldn't be having this idiotic conversation.”

 

Sango pursed her lips.

 

“Look,” Kagura scoffed and stood, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “ _that_ was always going to happen, so don't go feeling guilty about something you wouldn't have been able to change.”

 

Sango stared up at her with a furrowed brow, “It's not about the outcome, Kagura, my guilt comes from not _trying_. All we could do was stand there while you…” She looked away, turning her eyes to the dirt at her feet.

 

“Hn,” Kagura rolled her eyes, “How many times did I almost kill you? Willingly or not, actively or not, I would have, and wouldn't have regretted it.” She was nearly growling, humans were too sympathetic for their own fucking good. “So, I don't need _you_ feeling guilty because you think you owe me something. You don't, so stop looking at me like you pity me.”

 

Sango raised her head to stare at her, her eyes wide. “That’s not it, Kagura. And even if you say you could have killed us, you _didn’t…”_

 

“Not for lack of trying…” she muttered under her breath, “I ain’t about to start being a ‘good person’ or a softie like the rest of you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

 

Sango opened her mouth but was interrupted by a shout.

 

“Kagura-sama! Sango-sama!”  


They both turned at Rin's voice, the girl skipping out of the treeline above them, the sleeping bag heaped on her shoulders and dragging behind her in the dirt. After that came Jaken, the Nintoujou waving as he walked. And behind the imp, Sesshoumaru’s form standing in the shadows of the trees, watching them.

 

Kagura snorted as she met his eyes. “I never asked for your help, Sango.”

 

With a sigh Sango conceded and didn't say anything else as she watched the girl and the imp approach.

 

Kagura cocked her head in questioning, but Sesshoumaru turned on his heel without a word and disappeared back into the trees once Rin reached them. Sango greeted her with a warm smile while Kagura merely raised a brow at the girl.

 

“He dumping you with the humans again, kid?”

 

“Huh?” Rin struggled to adjust the fabric along her shoulders. “Oh, Sesshoumaru-sama said he had to go kill something.”

 

“Sesshoumaru-sama is graciously protecting the humans from the threat of the youkai who came to seek out the Jewel! You should all be grateful!” Jaken whined, shaking his fist. “And Kagura, you're always so disrespectful!”

 

Kagura waved her hand at the imp as Sango stood beside her, asking Rin if she’d eaten yet and if the girl was hungry.

 

“And you, Kagura?”

 

“Hn?”

 

“Did you want something to eat?” Sango asked, still smiling, but it lacked the uncertainty it had before. “You didn't yesterday, did you?”

 

Coming back to life had left her quite hungry, she had ignored the pains the day before. But, as the slayer eyed her awaiting a response, and maybe the humans were starting to get to her, she supposed it was rude to turn down hospitality.

 

* * *

 

Maybe it was having a full belly or merely learning to tune out their optimistic chatter, but the afternoon found her sitting amongst the humans still, futilely waiting for their friends.

 

The well clearing hadn't fared much better than the village, the ground barren, empty now save for the handful of humans and youkai awaiting their friend's return. Kagura sat on a small rise, Kohaku on her left. Sango sat not far from her brother, and Kagura knew she and the monk were eavesdropping, but couldn't begrudge them for it. Rin, the kitsune, and Jaken were involved in some game of Rin's imagining, though the imp's squawking often interrupted whatever gains they had made. The dragon slept in the shadow of the remaining trees.

 

Kagura found the whole scene too peaceful for her liking, there was always something more. Always something to fear, yet she tried to shake away the feeling of dread that had settled in her bones as the day had worn on with still no sign of either hanyou.

 

“Kid, I told you and everyone else, I know as much as you,” she said, levitating a leaf between her hands. At least she had retained her powers. Though she lamented her missing fan, using her hands was not as refined as the weapon had been.

 

“Houshi-sama said he doesn't sense the same youki from you as before,” Kohaku said and tossed a rock to where the well should be.

 

Kagura shrugged.

 

“You know, Kagura, once Inuyasha and Kagome come back we could―”

 

“I'm not joining your little rag tag band of misfits, if that's what you're considering, Kohaku. I told you, it's too late for that.” She said it loud enough for the monk and taijiya to hear, and drew her knees to her chest. “Once they return I'll have my answers.” She did not want to specify which _they_ she meant. “And then I'll go on my own.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Hn, you worried about me, kid?” She shrugged. “I'm free, I can go wherever I want. East, west, north, south, the mainland, the ocean, who cares? I'll go where I please.”

 

Kohaku furrowed his brow but did not respond.

 

“Kagura,” Sango's voice called, and she finally noticed that the woman had actually turned to watch them. “You can stay here as long as you need to.”

 

“Hn, I know, you keep telling me,” she muttered under her breath. When she'd gone with Sango, the monk had said it, then the old miko, all repeating themselves as if she was a friend to them. She stood, growing tired of their attention on her, and she intended to leave if not for Sesshoumaru's form emerging from the trees just to her right.

 

“Sesshoumaru-sama!” Rin and Jaken echoed, upsetting the fox with the abrupt end of their game.

 

He swept a cursory glance over the group, his eyes briefly meeting Kagura's before they returned to his ward. The girl happily babbling to him about some nonsense or another. Kagura thought she saw something like content pass through his eyes.

 

“Yo, Sesshoumaru,” she called to him, using an excuse to avoid the humans. “A good hunt, I take it?”

 

Sesshoumaru's gaze flicked from her to the humans watching behind her. “There are still youkai in the area, though they are weak and docile.”

 

“Hn.” His way of saying it wasn't his problem then? She looked him over now in the sunlight. She hadn't gotten the chance the day before in the moonlight, still too shocked to properly appraise him. Her eyebrows raised at his left arm, and the two swords, Tenseiga and―

 

“Oi, what happened to the other sword? Toukijin?” she blurted without thinking.

 

His eyes focused on her and narrowed, his posture straightened and she swore he leaned away from her.

 

“It was broken, I had no use for it.”

 

“Broken? Goshinki's fangs were strong enough to snap Tessaiga! How did you…” She couldn't hold back the incredulous tone of her voice, her eyes wide. She tried to remember anything of her months with her limited senses, anything pointing towards the broken ogre's fang.

 

Sesshoumaru didn’t answer, only glared at her. Trapped between an explanation and retreating. He finally settled on: “Moryoumaru.”

 

“Moryoumaru did…?” So the bastard had grown stronger, she remembered vaguely something that _could_ have been the event. But had nothing to confirm it.

 

“The old swordsmith said the sword broke because Sesshoumaru-sama was sad.”

 

Rin's voice was bright and chirpy, as she stood next to her lord and gave Kagura an innocent stare. Sesshoumaru, however, had gone from calm and complacent to completely stiff, his back straightened. His eyes had widened just enough for Kagura to notice, though he looked at some space just past her and did not meet her eyes.

 

“Because you…” Kagura bit her lip, aware of the daggers Sesshoumaru glared at her when she opened her mouth. She tried to contain the confusion manifesting on her face.

 

His lips parted slightly as if he meant to say something, but then with a minuscule shake of his head and an “I'll return” directed at his party, he turned and walked away into the trees. Kagura followed, not hiding it as she stomped along behind him.

 

“What was that?” she asked once they were out of earshot.

 

He didn’t answer, just kept walking.

 

“Oi!”

 

He stopped. She came around to stand in front of him and was surprised at the rage filled glare he gave her.

 

“Kagura,” his voice was low, nearly a snarl, “Do not presume to know me.”

 

She raised her eyebrows and took a tentative step back. Understood the underlying threat there but wasn't intimidated. “I’m not! In fact, I'm not presuming anything at all! But I am _trying_ figure out why you―”

 

“Nothing. What I do is not for you to concern yourself with, just as you do not concern me.” He turned on his heel and walked away from her. “Do not follow me again.”

 

She watched him go with crossed arms, one eyebrow raised. He was out of sight by the time she decided to return to the clearing. Nothing had changed, the children still played, Kohaku having joined the fray now. The monk and the taijiya still sat together, though their not-so-subtle attempt at avoiding her gaze did not go unnoticed. Kagura ignored them until Sango met her eyes as she passed. The slayer leaned over, her hand cupped around her mouth in a stage whisper as she spoke.

 

Sesshoumaru had broken his sword only two weeks after her death.

 

Kagura fought the urge to laugh, but did not go after him.

 

Instead she resumed her seat just behind the couple, watching the children play; uncomfortable in her newfound peace and her thoughts muddled over pompous dogs.

  



	4. I. Day Three

**** “It would be for the best, Sesshoumaru-sama.”

 

The old Miko's one eye watched him. It was unnerving, but he couldn't in good faith say she was wrong.

 

“You would take her in?”

 

She nodded. “I may be an old woman, but I'm capable of keeping up with a human child.”

 

He didn't say anything to that, just glanced over at her hunched form. Years of work had bent her back, but she was still capable of drawing a bow.

 

“And she won't be so young for long; she will be a young woman soon, I don't wish to insult your…  _ abilities,  _ Sesshoumaru-sama, however forgive me if I am not so confident in the tact of a daiyoukai male and an old imp.”

 

Beside him, Jaken squawked indignantly. Sesshoumaru merely scoffed.

 

“In the future, she can decide what she wants to do, but for now I think it would be best for the girl to live with her own kind, at least until she is old enough to decide for herself.”

 

Sesshomaru looked away from her, settling his gaze above her head. Is this what his life had been reduced to? Being lectured by old Mikos on how to…  _ parent _ a human child? His father was surely laughing himself silly. He nearly grimaced at the thought.

 

The old woman must have mistaken his silence for reluctance, because she still continued: “She told me somewhat of her life before meeting you, she would be well cared for here,” she said, she broke away from staring at him to look out over the village behind her. Off in the distance Rin sat in the middle of a road with Kohaku and the fox, several village children surrounding them. Kaede nodded, more to herself than him, “Even if I am to pass, there are those that already care for her here. And the villagers are not afraid of youkai as they once were, I'm sure they would not mind you visiting… if you chose to.”

 

“You can stop trying to debate with me, Miko,” he said, meeting her one eye again, “I will think on it.”

 

Kaede smiled and nodded once. “Thank you, I will respect whatever decision you come to.”

 

With that, she left him, limping off back towards the village. Sesshoumaru watched her go, and then his eyes moved back to where Rin was, still surrounded by human children, scribbling in the dirt. She was laughing along with them, even when the fox kit tried to surprise them with a trick and they all ran off giggling and screaming. He found himself agreeing with the old woman. Jaken was not exactly the ideal playmate―not even an adequate  _ babysitter― _ for a human child.

 

And she would be a young woman soon, over the months she had traveled with him, he had noted that the robes he had given her were already noticeably shorter. She had not wanted for food under his care, and it had obviously led to a growth spurt.

 

Though he didn't know how old she was, and she hadn't either, he knew that she would change in the coming years. If she would want the life that so many human women had―marrying and having children of their own―he did not know. But having the option open to her, socializing with her own kind, would be good for the girl.

 

The matter of her safety, now that had already been decided. Having been kidnapped more than twice, held hostage, and  _ dying _ under his care led him to believe that maybe the life of a common village girl might be the safer option. 

 

He turned away from the peaceful scene, the girl unaware of his presence as she played with her newfound friends. 

 

“Jaken, go watch over Rin.” Not that she needed it, they both knew that, but he would prefer if his vassal did not follow him. 

 

The imp grumbled, but did as told, joining the fray of human children and becoming the newfound oddity, a toy to play with. If only for a little while.

 

He turned to the path that led away from the village, not wanting to stay any longer. He had already decided he would stay until Inuyasha's return, at least if Rin was to live here the bastard would ensure her livelihood. While he did not doubt the Miko's promises, she was still an old woman, and he would not leave his charge orphaned again. But then again, his brother and the humans he cared for had always watched over her, to the best of their ability, she would not be forsaken should the old woman die.

 

As he walked, he noted that the forest was calm for the first time in three days. He was glad for the silence, it left him time to think, though his decision it seemed, was already made. He continued walking away from the village, trying to escape the stink of humans. It would have been peaceful, if not for the sudden rumble and crashing of trees being felled.

 

Sesshoumaru stopped, listening to the ruckus, and inhaled slowly. Ah, so the troublesome woman was making a nuisance of herself once again. 

 

He debated with himself, if he continued straight he would no doubt run into her. Not that he found her company intolerable, but he did not want a repeat of yesterday's scene; so he veered slightly left and went on his way.

 

Or, he would have, if not for the wind blade that suddenly sliced through the trees and whipped past only a few feet in front of him.

 

He stopped and turned slowly, his eyes following the wreckage she had wrought until he found the responsible culprit. With a speck of annoyance, he noticed she wasn't even looking at him.

 

Kagura stood in the center of a clearing of her own making, trees felled and radiating out from her center point. She held a fan in front of her as she fiddled with the ribs with a stern expression on her face; she pursed her lips and furrowed her brow as she gently tried to straighten the slightly curved guard. The thing was made of thin bamboo, and with her bending it as she was it more than likely to snap at any moment.

 

A strange sight, still. He was still accustoming himself with the fact that she was alive and breathing.

 

“You’ll break it.”

 

She gasped and her head shot up at the sound of his voice. Kagura’s eyes moved across him and then at the path her wind blade had taken, a dawning realization sinking across her face, her eyes widening slowly and her mouth falling open as she met his eyes.

 

With one leap he landed within a few feet of her, Kagura took a hesitant step back.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

She blinked. “What am I doing? What do you mean what am I doing?”

 

“If you wish to practice your skills, at the very least do so somewhere you won't maim a stray passerby,” he said calmly.

 

“I was, until you came along,” she huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, tapping the fan against her arm anxiously as she glared at him.

 

“That thing is inadequate.” 

 

“You think I don't know that?!” She uncrossed her arms to point it at him as she yelled. “This was the best they had in the village, I'm making due for now until I can get a better one.” 

 

He scoffed and meant to continue walking, if not for her coming to stand in his path, the fan still pointed at him. Sesshoumaru stopped and quirked a brow at her, waiting for her to say whatever it was causing the pensive glare on her face as her eyes moved over him. They paused at the swords at his hip before she looked up at him once more; she opened her mouth as if to speak but then shook her head and turned away from him, going back to tapping her fan against her arm. 

 

He allowed her silence for a moment before she took a deep breath.

 

“Kohaku told me,” she said, more to herself than anything, her eyes on the ground, “about Naraku giving you a piece of Kanna’s mirror, to use against Inuyasha.”

 

_ Hn.  _ Yes, he’d done that. What was the use in bringing it up now? He narrowed his eyes at the back of her head.

 

“How could you…?”

 

Now that was a surprise. “How could I?”

 

Her head snapped up, a furious glare on her face, her lips downturned into a grimace as her eyes roved over him. Her breathing was heavy and her fist white knuckled around the fan as she brought it up to point at him accusingly, jamming the thing in his face.

 

“Yes, you son of a bitch, how could you?!” she snarled the words, teeth bared, “After everything, you still allowed him to use you! Out of what, spite?! Your hatred for your own brother so great that you allowed yourself to become a tool of your enemy?”

 

“ _ You  _ do not get to question  _ my  _ motives, Kagura,” now he was the one growling, the sound reverberating through his chest and the air between them as he took a step forward and raised a clawed hand to smack the fan out of his face. She did not shy away from him, her feet remained planted on the ground, but her shoulders straightened as she let her arm be pushed out of the way.

 

“Your motive to what? To kill Inuyasha? To do Naraku's dirty work because you hate your own brother so much?! What possibly could have motivated you to try to kill the one ally who had a chance of killing him?!” The words dripped from her mouth like acid. “But no, you  _ chose  _ to take his aid  _ again _ for your own personal vendetta! Was it worth it, Sesshoumaru? Was it worth risking his victory for your own stupid pride?!”

 

“Quit your raving. Are you expecting me to apologize?”

 

A sardonic laugh caught in her throat and rumbled in her chest. “I would think apologies would be beneath you; just as taking something from an enemy  _ should  _ have been!”

 

“His ‘gift’ was convenient to the circumstances, Kagura.”

 

“The―the circumstances?! I’m sure there were ten thousand more ways to prove yourself than to use his ‘gifts’!”

 

“And what business is it of yours what I do?”

 

She clenched her jaw. “It  _ isn’t _ . But for you to take his offerings  _ knowing  _ what he did and what he would do… the one who tried to kill you, who kidnapped Rin―”

 

“...That was  _ your  _ doing…”

 

“―More than once! Who sought to make you suffer, who wanted to devour you and take your power for his own, who enslaved me and then―”

 

“You’re angry because you feel you’ve been betrayed. Is that not it?” 

 

Kagura took a step forward, her fan still pointed at him. “Betrayed?! By you? Laughable. Before I died I had no reason to have any doubts about you, Sesshoumaru, you son of a bitch; but I’m not stupid enough to believe that you were so pathetic and cowardly and  _ weak  _ to―”

 

A clawed hand shot forward, long fingers digging into the lapel of her kosode as she was jerked forward. Her chest made contact with his breastplate roughly, but her knuckles found his chest, keeping her fan pointed just under his chin. He gave her one hard shake.

 

“Watch your next words.”

 

She did not break his gaze as she glared at him, her jaw clenched painfully as she swallowed. 

 

“Ho? And you'll do what? Kill me?  _ Please. _ ” Her breathing was ragged but her voice did not falter as she raised her chin defiantly. “You won’t.”

 

He growled low in his chest and tightened his grip on her kosode, his claws biting into the thin fabric. She winced at the feeling of it digging into the skin on the back of her neck, but she did not show submission and he did not release his hold. The furrow in her brow was disappearing, replaced instead by the smirk spreading across her cheeks. 

 

“Those taijiya siblings are quite gossipy, you know, Sango told me about the fight with Moryoumaru…”

 

He grimaced and his growl increased in volume.

 

“...About how that bastard insulted me, how infuriated you were, and how you broke your sword...”

 

“ _ Kagura.” _

 

Her fan fell from his throat, she let it dangle idly from her wrist as she glanced down to flick a stray hair off from his shoulder.

 

“Deny it.”

 

He inhaled, her scent heavy in the air, and his grip loosened slightly.

 

“Deny that you broke the sword  _ I gave you _ over my sake; that despite your claim to the contrary, you cared anything for me or my death. I dare you to deny it.”

 

Sesshoumaru continued to glare at her, his fangs slightly bared. 

 

“You won't.” Her hand came down on his shoulder, just below his collarbone. Their noses were nearly touching as he held her firm against his chest, his eyes flicked between hers, debating, until he finally conceded. Just enough:

 

“No.”

 

A triumphant smile flitted across her face and she took a deep breath, her hand still heavy on his skin. Despite the insult, he found he had no interest in removing it or punishing her for the disrespect, instead quite content to leave her where she was. She was different, and not just because she was barefaced, her lips a soft shade rather than the vibrant rouge she’d once worn. There was no furrow in her brow, no lines around her eyes to betray fear or fatigue. There was a lightness about her being that hadn’t been there when she’d lived as a servant, it seemed what modicum of freedom she’d found over the last three days suited her.

 

Her lips parted but whatever she intended to say was interrupted by a tremor that shook the ground underneath their feet. They both tensed, and in the distance a pillar of light overtook the sky.

 

“Is that coming from the well?”

 

He gave an affirmative hum as his senses searched for anything amiss. 

 

Kagura’s hand moved, lightly pressing on him to push him away. He hadn't realized that his grip had tightened on her again.

 

“We should go.”

 

Sesshoumaru met her eyes, slowly uncurling his fingers from her kosode. She paused, watching him, then took a step back to adjust her clothing before reaching up and plucking a feather from her hair and taking to the sky. He followed suit, his fur wrapping around his legs as he trailed behind her feather.

 

The light disappeared only seconds before they landed, the monk and taijiya already crowding the lone figure standing before the reappeared well.

 

“Kagome is safe.”

 

Inuyasha barely acknowledged his friends, even as the monk placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, his eyes half focused on something just above the horizon. Surprisingly uninjured, his brother started walking back towards the village.

 

“Is he really dead?”

 

Inuyasha stopped, turning towards Kagura. He must not have registered her presence when they'd landed, as his eyes widened and his brow furrowed. He inhaled deeply. “You… how’re you…” 

 

She shrugged. “Is he dead, Inuyasha?”

 

His brother nodded once, still unsure of her, but then he shook his head. “Yeah, he's dead… Kagome wished for the jewel to disappear, he went with it.”

 

Kagura nodded once. “It's… over then?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She stood, unmoored, unsure of herself.

 

“Seems so,” he said, and started walking again. Just as he passed her he paused and turned to face her. His voice was weak and he didn't meet her eyes. “Kagome would be glad to know you're alive.”

 

Sesshoumaru watched his brother's retreating back, something like pity unfurling in his chest. He felt nothing for the Miko's absence, any sorrow or rage Naraku or the Shikon no Tama could inspire in him had been spent long before. He glanced at Kagura, awkwardly tugging at the too short sleeves of her kosode as she watched Inuyasha walk away, his friends quick on his heels leaving the two of them standing there in silence.

 

It was time he left the proximity of a human village, he would go see Rin and be off again. His brother's pain was not his to alleviate. He turned on his heel and started off in the opposite direction of the village.

 

“You're not going to ask what I intend to do again?” Her voice nearly made him stop.

 

Nearly.

 

“You’re free, aren't you?” He kept walking. “Do whatever you please, I don't care. It’s none of my concern.”

 

“Hn.” She watched his retreating back. Something lurched in her stomach and she turned away from him, biting her lip. “You’re right, I suppose it isn't.”

 

With a heavy breath she plucked a feather from her hair and took to the skies. She had verified Naraku's death, she had no reason to stay. The humans were not her friends. 

 

This was for the best.

 

She was unaware of the golden eyes that watched her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m always toying with the idea of Sesshoumaru being color blind like a dog, but I always have trouble because it limits my ability to describe certain things since I’m not as good of a writer as I’d like to be.
> 
> Unfortunately, this is the last we’ll see of him for a long time. This isn’t a SessKagu story, tho the sequel, once it’s ready, will be. Sorry to everyone who was hoping for more, but this is about Kagura.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. II. Purification

She flew south. Buffeted by the east and west winds. It was slow going, the spring eddie's tumultuous as they were. But Kagura didn't mind, freedom was a thing to savor, there was no rush, no boogeyman at her back. She took her time, letting the winds push and pull her feather where they pleased. Until finally, on the morning of the fifth day of her revival, the great blue ocean loomed on the horizon.

 

Straight towards the sun once it crested the horizon, the sky lit with hues of pink, orange, crimson, and gold. The endless expanse of the sea glittered, nearly blinding as she flew straight towards the crowning day until her feather found purchase in soft sand.

 

Despite the blinding light of the sun and the water's reflections, Kagura forced her eyes to stay open, relishing in the growing warmth and the soft sand as she sank into it. She ran her hands through the grains, sifting it through her fingers and letting the fine grit fly away into the air as the wind picked up again. 

 

She waited until the sun was a few fingers about the horizon, the air still carried a touch of winter's chill without the sun's warmth, before she waded into the water. She didn't care if there were onlookers―human, youkai, or otherwise―as she tucked her feathers into a sleeve and let her hair fall, tossed the fan to the ground and discarded her kosode in the sand. The water was like ice against her toes, the waves slapped against her shins almost as if in warning, and she nearly thought about turning away as she forced her legs to move deeper in. The soft, wet sand shifted beneath her feet and tendrils of algae and seaweed clung to her legs as she continued until the water came to her chest. Whatever lurked in the depths beyond the beach didn't matter as she took one deep breath and pulled herself beneath the waves.

 

The salt stung her eyes as she held herself there, suspended under the surface. The current pulled her farther out, then carried her back in as Kagura held her breath as long as she could. Maybe minutes, maybe hours, as the salt and sea foam invaded every pore, every crevice and every patch of skin, embedding itself in her hair and sanitizing every inch of her, even the scar between her shoulder blades.

 

When she finally surfaced again, the sun was just a little higher in the sky, the air just a little warmer, as she gasped for breath and shook the water from the tendrils of hair that now clung to her face and neck. 

 

She'd never swam before, couldn't remember a time it would have been necessary, but she knew when to kick her legs or hold her breath. Maybe some remnant of the youkai that had made up her flesh, a memory from muscles that hadn't belonged to  _ her.  _ Kagura didn't think too much on it as she dove beneath the waves, letting the surf pass over her head as she touched the bottom and resurfaced. She spent a little longer floating, surfing against the waves before the sun had passed its zenith and she decided that she'd had enough of the rocking current.

 

She walked onto the beach, spine straight and head high, the waves urging her forward. Her hair loose from its binding and trailing down her back, bits of seaweed clung to her legs, and the salt was beginning to dry on her shoulders. A little smugly, she guessed that any human she came across might think she was a sea devil. But, when she finally found her belongings nearly buried beneath the sand, she was more than just a little disappointed.

 

As she sat down on the kosode, she couldn't help but notice the coarse hemp, fibrous and itchy, and a pale shade of brown. And the fan, made of splintered bamboo, the paper beige and pulpy. 

 

As the sun dried the water from her back, she decided that that just wouldn’t do.


	6. II. Lost Girls

The coastline made it easy to find what she was looking for, and by the time the sun was setting over the land behind her, just a little after she'd nearly been shot down by a handful of jumpy bowmen, she'd found her mark.

 

A human fishing village, large enough to support a wealthy lord with an expansive estate and too many goods to know what to do with. She set down in the boughs of a sturdy maple just beyond the castle walls where neither the villagers or the guards would spot her and stayed put until dark, a nagging voice in the back of her mind chastising her for being so cautious. Or was it cordial? She would go without casualty if she went under cover of darkness. Though as she idly tore the knots from her hair with her fingers she wasn't sure why that mattered.

 

She took to her feather again once the stars emerged and there was candlelight flickering behind the shoji screens down below. Without a sound she floated over the wall and to the high window of a storage house, with a hard, splintering yank she broke the wooden posts meant to keep out pests and slipped inside to the second floor.

 

The strong stink of vinegar hit her nose and Kagura nearly gagged, the stench burning her nostrils. Not even her winds could dispel that set in stink, she nearly thought of turning around and leaving except for the sheer force of spite. She would find what she came for, once she was gone she would wash the stink out, but for now she could suffer through it.

 

As she padded along the planks of the second floor she found herself disappointed; nothing but rusted tools and spare wood, some scrolls of no importance and several jars that had been retired years ago filled with nothing but dust. Several minutes of digging through boxes left her with nothing, just more dust and debris that had her huffing and waving her hands trying to get it out of her nose and eyes. She sniffed fiercely, forcing the air out through her nose violently in an effort to get the fluff out.

 

“Fucking hell,” she coughed as she shoved the lid of a chest back on its frame. She turned on her heel and stomped down the steps to the first floor, not caring if anyone heard.

 

The stink of vinegar was stronger below, pickling jars stacked on top of each other and crowded on the sturdy shelves lining the walls. She traced a finger along the lids as she passed, looking for the older barrels. It was still early spring, if they had them at all, it would be… there.

 

Nestled in the corner on the middle shelf, a small porcelain jar. Kagura pulled it from its perch, heavier than expected, a good thing. She set it atop another barrel, struggled a bit before she could shimmy the lid off.

 

A grin lit up her face as she dipped two fingers in and pulled out her prize.

 

A pickled plum.

 

She didn’t care that juice dribbled down her chin as she popped it in her mouth, that sour sting hitting her tongue and her lips involuntarily puckering until she chewed enough to release the sweetness underneath. They had been an indulgence, back before Kagewaki Hitomi’s castle and its men had been eaten away by miasma, their bones left to rot. She’d done the same thing then, snuck into the storehouse under cover of darkness so as not to reveal Naraku’s facade.

 

With a snort she went back for a second and popped it in her mouth. The bastard’s death just made them all the sweeter. She chewed slowly, leaned against the shelves, and would have gone for a third if not for a squeak that sounded from her left.

 

Slowly, Kagura scanned the room as she licked the juice from her thumb. There was no way she’d been careless enough to―

 

Ah, but it seemed she did have a voyeur.

 

In an attempt to get away, the girl nearly upended the barrels she’d hidden behind before Kagura grabbed her by the back of the neck and hoisted her up and over, the tiny thing just tall enough that her toes tickled the floor as Kagura held her by the collar.

 

“Yo,” she said, giving the girl a shake, “You gonna’ scream?”

 

The girl gave a rough shake of her head and Kagura dropped her on her ass, she scrambled back on her hands and knees until her back hit the wall with a dull thud. Tears pricked at her eyes and shivers wracked her frame. A gangly, long limbed slip of a girl; a freckled face, she wore a tattered robe that came only to her knees, a long braid fell around her shoulder as she gripped her throat in fear.

 

“Anybody else snooping around back there?”

 

She shook her head once and Kagura popped the third plum in her mouth, licking the juice from her thumb as she stared down at the trembling little waif.

 

“A-are you gonna’ kill me?”

 

“Kill you?” Kagura scoffed. She’d never liked the idea of killing children, that had been Goshinki, and as long as the girl was quiet she wouldn’t cause any trouble. “If I was gonna’ kill you you think I'd be sneaking around in the middle of the night?”

 

“The ol’ lady says youkai e-eat k-k-kids.”

 

“Well, she ain't wrong.”

 

Her gasp was subtle and Kagura nearly had to choke back a laugh.

 

“You're lucky I ain't one of those youkai.” She smoothed the hair around her face, still crusted with salt from the morning. “‘Sides, you ain’t really a kid anymore, are you?”

 

The girl bit her lip and turned her eyes to her bare feet.

 

“Whatever, where do they store the summer clothes?”

 

Her head snapped up and the girl furrowed her brow. “S-summer clothes?”

 

“I need a new kosode,” Kagura said, fingering the hem of her sleeve, “where do they keep them?”

 

The girl hadn’t expected that particular line of questioning, she flapped her mouth a few times before she finally managed, in a matter of fact tone: “In the main house, the lady keeps all her clothes near her rooms.”

 

“You know where exactly?”

 

She nodded once but didn’t move.

 

Kagura sighed and nearly bit her tongue. “So you gonna’ tell me or do I gotta’ walk you through the whole castle to show me where? I ain’t a patient person.”

 

“Will you―are you going to kill anyone?”

 

“Maybe.” Kagura threw a hand in the air in an exaggerated shrug. “Why do you care? You’re the one locked up with the pickles in the storage house.”   

 

“...suppose ta’ keep the rats out.”

 

“Ain't they got cats for that?”

 

“The lord don't like cats, says they make him real sick.” The girl shrugged and averted her eyes. “‘Sides, it’s better in here than with everybody else…”

 

Kagura pursed her lips as she watched the girl, her shivering had subsided, and she looked more pensive now than terrified. At the very least she wouldn’t be screaming bloody murder the first chance she got.

 

“C’mon, let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Sticking to the shadows was one thing, but Kagura wouldn’t stoop so low as to tiptoe or cower whenever a servant or guard passed them by. The girl, on the other hand, was nearly hyperventilating, and it was only Kagura’s hand fisted in the lapel at the back of her neck that kept the little thing from jumping out of her skin at every nearby footstep or flicker of candlelight.

 

“You won’t kill anyone?”

 

“Not if I don’t need to, will I need to?”

 

“...No.”

 

“That’s that then, you’ll be back sleeping with the rats by morning.”

 

By the time they’d reached the lady’s quarters the girl had thankfully calmed down, silently leading her through the gardens until they could slip inside. The lady and her attendants would still be at dinner with the lord for another hour, she’d said, hopeful that she wouldn’t be discovered aiding a youkai.

 

A few minutes of peaking through the shoji screens and they’d found the lady’s storage closet, a large room offset from the main quarters. Filled to the brim with boxes, robes and accessories, Kagura spent a few minutes fingering through the fabrics until she finally spotted it.

 

A kosode of deep magenta, silver cranes in flight along the skirt and the hem of one sleeve. Not exactly a summer color, but it was thin enough to survive the humidity. Not even Kagewaki Hitomi had been able to afford something this glamorous, to pass it up would be such a waste…

 

The girl was silent behind her as Kagura rifled through the rest of the items, every so often she would peek through the closet doors to make sure they wouldn’t be discovered, holding her breath whenever a shadow passed by in the hall. Kagura ignored her, settling on a deep indigo inner layer and an inner kosode the color of fresh grass before she pulled the magenta one from its rack and tied it around her waist with a mustard colored belt.

 

A few more minutes of digging before she had a black lacquered comb in her hands, an abalone flower inset above the teeth. She didn't care for the decoration so long as it would get the job done. Next she pulled out a bronze mirror, small enough to fit comfortably in her palm. The girl turned to stared at her as she knelt on the floor, so Kagura turned away as she set to work detangling her hair, breaking apart the knots and tearing the strands from her scalp in the process. She cursed.

 

A hand tapped her shoulder and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

 

“Do you need help?”

 

She grimaced at the girl, but wasn't sure if the expression was potent enough in the shadows.

 

“Fucking hell, kid, you sure you ain't a ghost? Just a while ago you kept asking if I was gonna kill you.”

 

The girl shrugged and held out her hand for the comb.

 

_Weird kid._ But then again, the human children she'd met had all been strange. She placed the comb in the girl’s palm and let her run it through the knots.

 

“You smell like the ocean.”

 

“I was in the ocean today,” she muttered, leaning forward to place her chin in her palm.

 

“Are you a mermaid?”

 

She snorted. “No.”

 

“Oh.”

 

She twirled the mirror in her hand, every so often catching sight of the girl in the reflection. She seemed attentive to her task at least, and there was significantly less strain on her scalp than when she'd been yanking it through the knots.

 

“You're good at that.”

 

A smile flitted across her face. “Used t'do it fer my big sister.”

 

She nearly bit her tongue but the question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. “And where's she?”

 

“Got married. Went away to another town. Never heard from her again.”

 

_Hn._ “And your parents…”

 

“Pa’ ran off somewhere and ma’ got sick.”

 

_Ah._ Abandoned, orphaned. Slaving at the lord’s house was a better than the alternatives.

 

A few more minutes passed silently before the girl stepped away with a quiet “all done” and let her tie her hair back up into her usual high bun and tuck her feathers away. She took one last look at herself in the handheld mirror, something was still missing…

 

A small case tucked away in a corner produced rouge, which Kagura smeared onto her lips with a pinky finger, then smudged onto her eyelids, the rest she rubbed between her fingers and onto her cheeks. Now, as she appraised her reflection, she looked more like herself; her eyes and lips defined. Next, earrings, revealed in a small box on the top shelf, she chose a pair made of gold plate, daisies and maple leaves engraved in one solid piece that dangled to her chin once she punched them through her lobe.

 

And the final touch, a fan. Solid bamboo, black save for a streak of red in the center. It would do for now. She pocketed the comb, the mirror, and the rouge in her collar and turned to the girl, who had gone from watching her to staring at the muddled pile of silks Kagura had left in her wake.

 

“That’s all I needed.”

 

The girl jumped at her voice but didn’t turn to her with tear stricken eyes. A relief.

 

Yes, she had all that she had come for, save for maybe a hot bath, but she could take to the sky without so much as a second glance. The girl, however, was starting to ring her hands in her apron again.

 

Dirt crusted fingernails, tattered robes, hair sticking every which way. Kagura fought back a grimace as she appraised the little thing. Those damn good guys had gotten to her.

 

“You know, you could pocket whatever you want and make a run for it.”

 

The girl bit her lip and shook her head. “The last girl who tried that got her hands cut off by the overseer ‘n sent to Sado.”

 

A dreadful fate for a human, to be sure.

 

“Well, you’d just have to be smarter than her, wouldn’t you?” Kagura said, absently tossing a pink silk kosode over the girl’s head. “Your sorry state is depressing me anyway.”

 

The girl fingered the fabric like she’d never seen anything like it before in her life, skeptical. She gave Kagura one long look, not stupid enough to openly trust the youkai robbing her lord, it seemed. The girl stood slowly, letting the fabric pool around her feet as she stepped forward and reached for the mirror sitting along the wall. Maybe a bit too big to carry, but the girl picked it up nonetheless, holding it before her face curiously.

 

Kagura watched, silent, wondering what she would do, or what exactly she saw in the reflection. She hadn’t touched that thing for a reason, hadn’t given it more than one cursory glance, but now the girl was holding it as if it was the most precious thing in the world, gripped tightly in her fists and Kagura was forced to look. The round face, silver frame that had been polished so finely it was almost pure white in the moonlight. Kagura let out a sigh, growing impatient.

 

“Oh, hell, just―”

 

Voices. Footsteps.

 

The girl hadn’t heard yet.

 

Kagura spun, with a jerk she made to reach for her arm, but the girl misread her intention, she jumped back, away from the youkai before her―

 

And dropped the mirror.

 

It hit the floor with a crack, so loud it boomed in her ears as it shattered, thousands of tiny shards embedding themselves in the lines of the tatami mats and glittering in the cool light.

 

“You fucking idiot.”

 

The girl’s head shot up, her lip quivering as she stared at Kagura, abject terror clear on her face.

 

The voice’s down the hall had stopped, a murmur amongst the crowd, before the footsteps picked up again, faster this time.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please, I―!”

 

“ _Shut the fuck up_!”

 

She slapped both hands over her mouth and looked as if tears were going to start pouring over her cheeks any second. Kagura felt like slapping herself, letting out a deep sigh as the slap of feet and the sound of doors being yanked open violently loomed closer. So much for subletly. Kagura turned and placed her hand on the door, if a little bloodshed was necessary, then so be it, she wasn’t above that.

 

A hand tugging at her sleeve stopped her.

 

“Please,” her voice bubbled with unshed tears, “don’t kill anyone.”

 

A sharp exhale through her nose and Kagura rolled her eyes just as the door outside slid open.

 

Humans and their fucking morals.

 

“No promises.”

 

The girl’s face fell just as Kagura shoved the sliding door aside, three ladies in waiting, and their mistress just outside the threshold, whipped their heads around to face her, varying degrees of horror dawning on their faces as they met blood red eyes reflecting the light of their candles.

 

“... _Youkai!”_

 

They erupted into chaos, one screeched for her lady and with a shove they were both running back down the corridor they had come from; the second, threw her hands up in her terror and dropped her candle in the process, just close enough to the shouji screen that the flame caught; and the third looked as if she might have some fight in her, until the fire licking at her heels made her think otherwise, she joined the others in running, their screams echoing down the hall. Kagura blinked against the growing smoke and shook her head.

 

“Well, I guess you got what you wanted,” she said over her shoulder. The girl was gripping the door frame in a white knuckled grip, her face illuminated by the blaze as she covered her nose with a sleeve. “Let’s get the fuck out of here before you start to choke.”

 

The girl didn’t move, even as the flames began to lick up the walls and into the ceiling, Kagura nearly snarled. The little bitch was getting on her damned nerves, too slow and too scared to move. Kagura stomped through the meager space between them and snatched her by the arm to drag her out onto the engawa. She threw the outer door open, and had to step back nearly just as quickly to avoid the spear that embedded itself in the wood where her foot had just been.

 

“Oi, oi!” she called, bringing the girl around in front of her and giving her a shake, “I’d be a bit more careful, unless you really don’t care about this one!”

 

A handful of guardsmen stood in the yard, flanked by laborers or whatever man had heard the women’s screams; a few held buckets, full with water, but most held spears. Behind her, the flames cast her shadow on them, hiding their faces. Distantly, Kagura thought she heard the sound of warning bells. Whether it was for her, or the growing fire, she wasn’t sure.

 

“Please! Stop! Just let her go!” The girl trembled in her hold, though her gaze was firmly fixed on the guards, a little quieter, she said: “please, don’t kill anyone.”

 

Kagura sighed.

 

“Whatever, kid, I got what I came for,” she said as she plucked a feather from her hair, “See ya’.”

 

“Wait―!”

 

Whatever she meant to say was lost in the rush of air as her feather expanded and caught on the wind, Kagura quickly jumped atop it and took to the sky. A spear narrowly missed her, puncturing through the barbs, but left no damage.

 

“You'll have to have better aim then that!”

 

She stopped, suspended more than a hundred feet above them and glanced back, while several men still watched her, spears poised to throw, the fire blazed through the roof and thick black smoke overtook the sky. Servants and guards running frantically trying to quell the flames with buckets of water. It would make no difference, the damage was already done, the estate would be gone by morning, she thought dryly.

 

She made to leave but a flash of pink caught her eye.

 

That little idiot.

 

The girl still had the kosode in her hand, a little soot stained from the smoke, but still conspicuous as a man dragged her through the courtyard by her hair as the girl struggled against the hold.

 

Something lurched in Kagura's stomach.

 

_Goddamnit._

 

Even from that height, a meager flick of her wrist was enough to split the man's arm a little too closely to the girl's head than she would've liked. The hand that had been fisted in the girl's hair uncurled, and fell to the ground with a heavy thump. Blood spattered her face as he fell on his ass screaming, clutching his torn limb.

 

Kagura landed lightly between them, appraising her work as he cringed away from her, whimpering. These guardsmen too shocked to raise their spears at her again. She snorted and turned to the girl with an open palm.

 

“You coming or what?”

 

Despite the gore on her face and chest, the girl's eyes lit up. She smiled and took her hand.

 

* * *

 

The sun still hadn't risen yet by the time Kagura stopped beside a slow flowing river. She thought of just dropping the girl straight into the water, given the way she had screamed for roughly half the time they'd been airborne, and for the rest she'd held onto Kagura's shoulders with enough force to bruise. But in the end, she thought better of it, and they both landed softly on the river bank.

 

Silently they washed their faces and rinsed out their hair, Kagura for the salt and the girl for the blood. The water still too cold and the night far from over to bathe properly.

 

“That was the overseer, you know.”

 

“Hn, served him right.”

 

Kagura handed her the lacquer comb and the mirror when the girl began to redo her hair. She watched as she rebraided her hair, making it look simple despite her blindness in the dark. Once she was done the girl went to hand back the items, Kagura took the comb but shook her head at the mirror.

 

“Keep it.”

 

The girl's face lit up, a tiny smile pulling at her lips as she appraised her gift. “Thank you.”

 

“So what'll you do now?”

 

The girl shrugged.

 

“Find somewhere else to work I guess,” she said. She finished braiding her hair and stared at the fabric bunched in her lap.

 

Kagura sighed. She was getting way too soft hearted, but the idea of a human kid lapping at her heels didn't sit right with her. Unlike some people, she didn't have the patience.

 

She wasn't cut out for this shit.

 

* * *

 

When she had a purpose she could fly much faster, and by the time the first fingers of light had breached the horizon she had spotted the smoke from the villager's hearths.

 

She came in low from downwind and landed softly just beyond the trees. Now somewhat accustomed to it, the girl jumped from her feather with ease.

 

“...this is a human village.”

 

“You ain't wrong,” Kagura snorted and crossed her arms over her chest, “go in there, find the miko or the monk. They'll help you out. Tell ‘em you got kidnapped by youkai or whatever.”

 

The girl shook her head. “Why? That ain't really true.”

 

“Isn't it?" She asked with a shrug. "Then tell ‘em whatever you want, I don't give a shit. Just don't mention me,”

 

“Alright,” the girl nodded, and then to Kagura's surprise, dropped into a deep bow.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Kagura stared at the top of her head for a moment before she reached over and yanked the girl by the collar back to standing.

 

“Don't do shit like that, I ain't someone you should be thanking,” she said as she turned away, waving a hand over her shoulder before she plucked a feather from her hair. “Enjoy your new life, kid.”

 

A giggle sounded in her ears. “It's Reika, by the way. And you…”

 

“Don't worry about it.”

 

She took to the air before Reika could say anything else, moving just far enough away that she wouldn't be seen but could still watch as the girl turned and made her way into the village, disappearing around a shed.

 

Kagura spared one last glance down, the sun now illuminating the village and the surrounding forest. Something light bloomed in her chest and she bit her tongue to keep from analyzing exactly what that was before she turned to fly away. But not before something glinted in her peripherals and she glanced down to her left, a little farther than where they'd landed.

 

A two headed dragon, napping in an open clearing. Kagura pursed her lips. It's master nowhere to be seen.

 

“‘ _I don't care. It's none of my concern,’”_ she sneered and picked up speed.

 

“Tuh! _Whatever.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Kagura is channeling Chicken Spongebob some 460 years before his time in the last two lines. And yes, I have a very specific headcanon timelime of all the events in Inuyasha, this story starts circa March 1554, if you were curious.
> 
> This chapter spiraled into something much longer than it was meant to, even after I separated it from the previous chapter, but I didn't want to break it down anymore, so here we are at some 4000 words. Oops.


	7. II. Loot Priests

Freedom was…

 

Immense and indescribable, full of endless possibilities. The world was her oyster, everything open and bright. Every sunrise and every sunset, a new dawn, a new day for her to stretch her wings. To fly, to swim, to walk and smell the flowers. Nothing to weigh her down, no master to answer to, no death defying missions or enemies to fight. An existence of full breath, open arms.

 

Freedom was…

 

Well, freedom was fucking  _ boring. _

 

Kagura came to this conclusion during the seventh week of her new life. She'd traveled north a little, then east, and then finally west. She zigzagged across the country, stopping anywhere that took her fancy. Mountaintops, beaches, forests, lakes, and rivers. She spent an entire week nearly dozing beneath a cherry tree and finishing off a bottle of sake she'd stolen, the petals fell into her hair and onto her face, kissing her lips and tickling her skin while she'd watched the sky through the blooms. Her legs had gotten restless by the time the flowers began to wilt and die, and by then she'd been in a daze so long she wasn't really sure how many days had passed, though she was blanketed in so many petals that they'd clung to the insides of her robes for what seemed like a fortnight. That sickly sweet smell had stuck in her nose for even longer.

 

Several mornings spent watching the sunrise from mountaintops. The spring flowers bloomed in lush fields. Humans planted their crops and the animals birthed their young.

 

And everything started to muddle together.

 

How long had it been since she'd been revived? She couldn't quite say. For all the sunrises she'd seen, she couldn't count them, too similar for her to distinguish one from the other in her memory. Most youkai stayed away from her if they could help it, and she shied away from human settlements if she wasn’t burglarizing them. 

 

All in all, there was nothing for her to  _ do _ .

 

The only thing she'd tried to accomplish, and failed, was finding her fan. The one she'd stolen from the fisherman's lord still wasn't adequate enough, as well made as it was, but wasn't as precise as she would have liked. Something she’d only realized when she’d been accosted by a feral sarugami* who’d mistaken her for a human, she’d aimed for the damn monkey’s head and instead sliced off his arm, which resulted in it shrieking loud enough to shake the ground and spewing blood everywhere until she’d finally managed to decapitate it after too many wind blades at its neck. Her ears had been left ringing for days after that.

 

With some chagrin, she lamented the loss of the one Naraku had given her, it had been like an extension of her arm, not simply a tool or a weapon, but a piece of her. And it had been dropped somewhere between where he'd attacked her and the meadow. She'd been panicked then, panicked and dying, and even when she tried she couldn't remember where either event had happened. She wasn't about to go asking anyone who might. Better to leave things as they were, no use in embarrassing herself.

 

By the time she'd moved far enough west that Mount Fuji's shadow followed her every move she was mind numbingly bored. She hadn't spoken a word in weeks and was more than sure that her voice would be raspy and her throat would go raw quickly if she tried. She was starting to realize why Naraku had quickly gained a reputation for mischief and mayhem all those years ago. At least terrorising humans was entertainment, something to do, and maybe Kagura considered going down the same path if only getting purified wasn't a consequence she’d prefer to avoid.

 

Another sunset, glimmering off the waters of Lake Yamanaka and disappearing just beyond the mountain. Another day done. Kagura sighed, contemplating whether she should try to finally sleep, maybe things would be different when the sun rose.

 

She closed her eyes, and would have willed herself into nothingness, if not for the sound of a lute.

 

* * *

 

She’d debated, hemmed and hawed and stared at the bark of a tree for who knows how long until she’d finally decided to follow the sound, too caught up in her own curiosity. She picked her way through the forest minutia until she spotted firelight twinkling between the trees and against the rolling waves of the lake. The sound of laughter came next, mostly men’s, but the timid giggle of a few women did reach her ears before she took to the trees. She leapt from branch to branch until she found herself just above the circle of torches.

 

_ Hn _ . At least she would have some entertainment, she thought as she made herself comfortable in the boughs of the tree. Below, two women, elaborately dressed and their faces painted just as garishly, slowly danced in the center, following the tempo set by the lute player just behind them and the voice of the singer to their left. A handful of human men, a few maybe a little too deep in their drink, surrounded them and watched on as if in a daze, satisfied smiles pulling at their lips and red splotches on their cheeks. And Kagura felt it too, not from the drink, but the sound of the biwa and the shamisen. She’d never liked the twang they put forth, too jarring on her sensitive ears, but now, as she reclined into the trunk of the tree, she started to think that maybe it was soothing in its own way…

 

The night fully took hold as she watched what seemed like a never ending song. No moonlight penetrated the circle, the world outside of the torches nothing but inky black shadows; not even the sound of the waves lapping against the lakeshore disrupted the music. The humans paid it no mind, too entranced by the music and the dancer’s movements. The torch light cast shadows against the performer’s painted faces just as the taller woman looked up.

 

A fraction of a second, but Kagura blinked. She’d looked straight at her, and it seemed to set something off. The other dancer missed her mark, the singer bit his tongue, and a stronger breath of wind sent the torches flickering violently. The shadows on their faces changed, morphed, became something much more like…

 

_ Youkai. _

 

Kagura sat up straight on her perch. The humans hadn’t noticed, that the enchantment had faltered, but she felt like slapping herself for not having realized it sooner.

 

She let herself slide off the branch and landed softly in the dirt just behind the humans. They paid her no mind as she approached, coming to stand just beyond the ring of torches. A grin overtook the woman’s face and the music began to slow, the singer’s voice fading until finally the dancers stopped and the music softly drifted off into the trees. All four sank into low bows, their foreheads nearly touching the dirt. The humans, still too dazed, couldn’t formulate a proper response, nothing but nods and hums of approval and raised cups for toasts. As the performers rose to their feet, the woman looked to her again, a coy smile playing across her slim face.

 

“Would you care to join?”

 

Kagura raised a brow and tapped her fan against her chin. That sly little smile unnerved her, but a glance over the gaggle of humans told her they were more drunk off the wine than any type of bewitchment, and the three patiently waiting for her response didn’t set off any alarm bells. So Kagura nodded, and stepped inside the circle.

 

It was like a cloud had passed over her, a shroud being thrown over her form. A few of the humans gave her a look over their shoulders, maybe a once over, but they ignored her once the woman waved a hand at her and the other woman started to dance again, the lute starting up again, but the singer had disappeared.

 

“Please, sit, sit,” she said, ushering her into an open space. The woman’s face was… ordinary, smooth and round and painted white, her eyebrows half shaved and long inky black hair flowing down her back. Kagura didn’t sit right away, but the man closest to her raised a cup in offering nonetheless, a wide, drunken grin on his face. He mumbled something she didn’t quite catch but she declined the offer.

 

“These humans…” She’d been right, even speaking softly, her voice was rough.

 

“Oh, did you want them?” the woman asked, nonplussed and not bothering to whisper, “We weren’t going to kill them, but if you mean to at least wait until we’ve gone, would you?”

 

“Hn, I ain’t interested in killing some common bandits,” she said, giving the other men a glance over. Thieves, by the look of them, mismatched and ramshackle armor, tattered and rusted swords, a few moldy bows and spears, and only ten teeth between them all. If these tricksters meant to rob someone, they’d chosen a poor audience.

 

“My name is Momiji, and you?” 

 

“Kagura.”

 

“A pleasure. Won’t you sit?” She asked, and gestured to a bottle of sake near the human. The shadows flickered again, and in Momiji’s grinning mouth she spotted a thick fang poking over her upper lip.

 

“ _ Heh _ , you intend to rob me, too?”

 

Momiji looked affronted. “Oh, no, no, my dear. Bandits are one thing, but we never steal from youkai or miko or monks… We do have  _ some  _ standards."

 

Kagura raised a brow but kept her mouth shut and sank to the ground several feet away from the human in an effort to avoid his stink. Momiji smiled and made a gesture over her shoulder and returned to the center of the circle, plucking a bottle from of the humans as she passed and offering to pour a cup for another. 

 

The other woman continued to dance, a little less sure footed than she'd been with Momiji, but Kagura supposed it didn't matter much, her audience too far gone to pay close attention. They'd already gone most of the night not realizing that the man holding the biwa wasn't actually playing, his fingers idly strummed the air but made no contact with the strings. 

 

Before long, the human next to her was on his back and snoring, he’d spilled his drink down his front when he’d nodded off and now a puddle was forming in the dirt below him. Kagura grimaced at the sight and looked up just as the woman ended her dance with a deep bow, the music echoed off into the trees and she had to blink to clear her eyes when the lute got up and  _ walked  _ off the man’s lap and into the shadows.

 

"So what's your deal?"

 

She hadn't noticed him squat beside her but she knew better than to voice her surprise as she turned to the singer.

 

"My ' _ deal _ '?" She parroted, reflexively opening her fan and covering her mouth.

 

"Yeah," he shrugged and flicked the end of his long ponytail over his shoulder as he fully sat next to her. A square jaw, thick brows, a thin nose, and narrow eyes that reflected an emerald green in the fire light. At least he'd chosen a handsomer disguise than Momiji had. "You a dancer or something?”

 

“...something like that. Why?”

 

He shrugged again, he loosened his furisode to slip an arm out of his sleeve and between the collar, leaving it gaping open to reveal a pale chest. “Just asking, you’re dressed like one, thought maybe you were some enchantress like a jorougumo or something.”

 

“A  _ what?” _

 

“You know,” his lip quivered just a little, “like a whore spider. I heard there are some around here and―” 

 

She desperately wanted to hear the sound of her fan cracking over his skull, but he’d scrambled away and her arm swished through the air as she narrowly missed her mark.

 

“I’m joking! I’m joking―!” He all but shrieked, his hands held defensively in front of his face even as he tried to stifle his laughter and had to pull his lip between his teeth to hide a wild grin.

 

She raised her arm to swing again when she was interrupted by the other dancer.

 

“Hotaru!” she hissed, in a voice much raspier than Kagura had expected, and all but sprinted between them to smack him over the back of the head. “Don’t be―” another smack, “so fucking―” another, “ _ rude!” _

 

“I’m sorry!” He was still chuckling, but held up his hands as if in prayer and looked up at her warily from beneath his bangs, “I’m sorry, that was rude of me, you’re a guest, and I should learn to watch my mouth. Apologies.”

 

Kagura stared at him, unsure what to make of his apology, but slowly lowered her arm when she glanced at the dancer. The woman nodded once and smiled serenely at her.

 

“It’s in his nature, honestly, ignore him.”

 

Kagura pursed her lips. “If he says shit like that to me again I’ll take his head off.”

 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t blame you,” she said with a sigh, giving him one more good smack to the head without even looking. “You said you’re a dancer?”

 

“Sort of…” 

 

“Don’t look so suspicious,” she rasped, “I’m only asking because I know Momiji is waiting for you to offer and I’m getting tired, dancing isn’t my thing.”

 

Kagura glanced at the other woman, who was looking at her expectantly. Next to her, the human was seconds from falling onto his face and drooling while Momiji ignored him. Kagura raised a brow.

 

“You all, what are you, exactly?”

 

A sly grin took over her face and she stood. The man’s head bobbed forward, his chin smacking against his chest, and the torches flickered again, Momiji’s face scattered with them, no longer plump and round, instead her cheekbones now sharp, an angular chin that protruded just enough for her lower fangs to curve over her upper lip, and two horns that grew up from her hairline, a glimmering emerald stone slung between them on her forehead.

 

An oni? No, her transformation had been under her own power, hadn’t it...

 

“Nothing but travelers,” she said, stepping just beside them, “biwa hoshi, gossip mongers, singers, dancers, actors, puppeteers if need be. We’re whatever we like.”

 

“Hn,” Kagura raised her chin, “and these humans?”

 

“Oh, them?” Momiji shrugged. “Sometimes they have ways to pay for our… performances.” She backed away to kneel next to one of the unconscious bandits and reached for the dagger at his belt, she pulled it from its sheath and held it up for Kagura to see. 

 

“A youkai blade?” Even in the dark its aura was tangible.

 

“It’ll fetch a high price,” she said, and tossed it over her shoulder to the lute player, “we aren’t much for fighting, but if there’s something we want, we can get it.”

 

“...you mean what  _ you _ want…” the man beside them muttered, still clutching his head.

 

“Exactly.” Momiji smiled again and gestured to the center of the circle. “Won’t you show us a dance? I’d like to see it, but don’t feel as if you have to, we can just sit and drink if you’d prefer…”

 

Kagura held her gaze for a moment, an apprehension holding her limbs in place. The other two were within arm’s reach of her, and her fan was loose in her hand; she’d already come this far, stepped in to the shapeshifter's circle. What could it hurt?

 

“Alright.”

 

The smile on Momiji’s face grew and she puckered her lips, her fangs still poking out, and made a soft whistling sound. She waved a hand to the center again and returned to her original place as Kagura stepped forward. The lute player had scooted back, and when Kagura looked at him now he had the same features as Momiji, thicker horns and fangs, but the same.

 

The soft pitter-patter of small footsteps reached her ears and Kagura turned just as the oddest assortment of spirits she’d ever seen stepped into the light. Instruments, the lute she’d seen walk away followed by a koto and a shamisen. The koto’s strings stuck up wildly, like a feral cat, and she swore it hissed at her when she met what she thought was its eyes. The trio set themselves up in a row as Kagura stared, bewildered; they tweaked and twanged their strings without aid for several minutes and Kagura didn’t move until they quieted. When she didn’t move right away the koto  _ snarled at her _ and the shamisen waved it’s pick aggressively.

 

“They’re a bit jumpy around new people, don’t mind them.”

 

Kagura turned to look at Momiji again, incredulous. Fine, whatever, this was fine. She took a neutral position, and waited for the first note before she started to move.

 

Dancing wasn’t difficult, it had always been natural to her, muscle memory, just like swimming had been, she simply  _ knew  _ and she moved. What was difficult was maintaining it, Kagura had always been conscious of her movements, had to be, dancing controlled the wind and disrupted the air around her, dancing meant fighting stances, dancing meant battle and blood and bones and death. The music flowed through her, and the wind flowed with it, and she remembered a time when something as simple as opening her fan was something much  _ more.  _

 

The tempo increased and she struggled to match it, she tried to recall… battles, Inuyasha, Kouga, the yourouzoku, and the monks, and― 

 

Hakudoushi. Everything else had been games, games and faints and fronts, but Hakudoushi,  _ that _ had been real. It’d been anger and fear and a prayer all in one; anger at her ineptitude, at her own weakness, fear for herself, for Kohaku, and a prayer for… She bit her lip and used her fan to hide her face. 

 

It’d been a prayer for rescue, for safety, release, anything more than she’d been given. To be worth saving. And for all her namesake was worth, for all she danced, she’d always thought it was a prayer the Gods would never answer.

 

And now she danced for strangers. She twisted, bent her knees and threw out her arms, keeping up with the instruments’ tempo until she felt it slow and she could sink to her knees, ending the dance.

 

There was silence as she bent her head, the twang of the shamisen still thrummed in the air around her, and for a moment she wondered why her cheeks ached until she realized she’d been smiling.

 

Kagura schooled her face and looked up at what was left of her conscious audience. The dancer and that man stared at her with wide eyes, and even the lute player seemed a little stunned, while Momiji grinned from ear to ear.

 

“That was beautiful, Kagura-san, thank you.”

 

She stood slowly, letting her knees unbend. “Just Kagura is fine.”

 

“Kagura,” Momiji hummed, “that gave me chills, even the taste of the air is different. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

 

Something tickled her leg and Kagura glanced down, suppressing the urge to jump, the koto twanged at her and rubbed against her calf again.

 

“I think it’s warmed up to you.”

 

“Seems so,” she muttered, and watched as it all but trotted away after the other two, whining all the way. Momiji stood and approached her, a new bottle of sake and a cup in her hands, a keen smile on her face as she offered up the items.

 

“Won’t you stay awhile?”

 

She took the cup from Momiji and waited as she poured and then took a seat where she stood. Kagura took a small sip as Momiji stepped back and sat next to her twin while the other two had begun to rummage through the human’s belongings.

 

“What is your purpose, Kagura?” Momiji asked, watching her intently.

 

“My purpose?”

 

“Yes, as in, what are you doing now?”

 

Kagura took another sip and shrugged. “Living my life, I guess.”

 

“An egg!” the dancer’s shriek interrupted them, and when Kagura looked up she realized the two of them had dropped their guises. A tanuki and kitsune, how appropriate. The kitsune tried to pry the speckled sphere from the tanuki’s paws, but only got a swift bite to the hand before she’d popped the whole thing in her maw and crunched it triumphantly.

 

“Would you consider coming with us?”

 

_ That  _ nearly had her spitting up her drink. “What?”

 

“Like I said, we’re travelers, we perform for humans and youkai alike all over the islands and beyond, if you’ve nothing better to do…”

 

Her mouth went dry, that same apprehension weighing down her limbs as she processed exactly what was being asked of her. To travel with them… strangers she’d only just met among a handful of drunk and unconscious human bandits in the middle of a forest. They hadn’t given her a reason to distrust them, she had nothing of value for them to steal, and she was confident that even if they tried she could more than handle them. But… 

 

“I…” she ran her tongue over her teeth, “I need a new fan first.”

 

Not a complete lie, but Momiji nodded knowingly.

 

“You’re linked to the wind, aren’t you? I felt it when you danced. Hold on.” Momiji stood and disappeared into the shadows beyond the torches. Kagura watched her retreating back and took another sip of sake, idly listening to the kitsune and tanuki’s bickering and avoiding the silent stare of Momiji’s twin until Momiji returned several minutes later, waving a slip of parchment in her hand.

 

“Here.” She handed her the paper with both hands, the ink, still a little wet, shimmered in the light. “Her name is Shio and she lives in the shadow of Mount Ena. The humans call her a witch, but she’s quite skilled at papercraft, I’m sure if you go see her she’ll be able to make you something adequate enough. Bring this with you and tell her I sent you.”

 

Kagura eyed it warily before tucking it into her sleeve. It could prove useful, and at least the quest would give her something to do and time to think.

 

“And this, for after” she dangled a braided cord before her face, a cowry shelf twisted into the center, “and if you decide you want to come with us, burn it, I’ll send a guide for how to find us.”

 

The cord went in her sleeve with the parchment and Kagura stood, emptying her cup. 

 

“I’ll think it over, but I’ll go see this Shio.”

 

“Don’t think too long, we’re heading for the mainland in eight weeks.” The gruff voice of the lute player surprised her, but he hadn’t even looked up to speak, his gaze fixed firmly on the dirt in front of his knees.

 

“And don’t leave so soon!” Momiji huffed, waving her hand to gesture for Kagura to sit again. “We’ll be leaving by sunrise but there’s not rush!”

 

She thought it over a second before doing as asked and sank back to a seated position and letting Momiji refill her cup. It wasn’t so bad, drinking and listening to them talk once the kitsune and the tanuki came and sat with them again, Hotaru and Okiyo. She found herself chuckling along with them at their bickering, at Momiji’s admonishments, it was… nice. Even Momiji’s doppelganger, her younger brother, Younousuke, she learned, interjected with gruff and often one word sentences. But when asked what she’d been doing or where she’d come from, she hedged and avoided the question.

 

It wasn’t long before the torches died and the sky lightened, harkening the sunrise. The troupe set about cleaning up the site, removing the torches and any evidence that they’d been there, only the smell of alcohol and the snoring humans were left behind as they packed everything else into a carriage that had been tucked away in the trees. 

 

“You will find us again, won’t you?”

 

Kagura glanced into the carriage, where the instrument trio sat on the ledge, waving at her. 

 

“I’ll see what that Shio can do for me, and then we’ll see.”

 

Momiji nodded. “I look forward to it.”

 

The others had no goodbyes for her, only casual waves and smiles, Younousuke merely giving her a nod as she leapt onto her feather and took to the sky.

 

Once she was in the air she pulled the parchment from her sleeve, looking over the directions as she headed straight west and away from the rising sun. Find Shio, the witch in the shadow of Mount Ena. Hn, at least now she had something to do.

 

………

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sarugami is basically “Monkey God” but are usually considered fallen gods and are pretty violent. I know there was a Sarugami who showed up in the manga, but let’s say he’s an outlier for this particular anecdote.
> 
> In Japan there were traveling storytellers known as “biwa hoshi” or “lute priests” who would play the biwa and tell stories from Japan’s history.


	8. II. Cherry Paper

The journey didn't take long, only a day for her to pick her way across the mountains, many still capped with snow. The eddie's and gusts were strong coming over the ridges, and she had to choose her path carefully, lest she be barrel rolled straight into a icy cliffside.

 

It was night by the time she reached Mount Ena, so she settled on a mossy boulder near a river, deciding that accosting a witch in the middle of the night wouldn't be in her best interest. She reclined and pulled the braided cord Momiji had given her from her sleeve and twirled it between her fingers.

 

Traveling with them, huh? It didn't sound so bad, if how they'd described it was true. A few weeks here and there, performing in the castles of youkai lords and clans, rarely, but sometimes humans, and going to the mainland… she didn't know much of it, but the idea was intriguing. It would give her a purpose, a routine, something to do other than wandering on her own. And if it wasn't what she expected then she would just leave them behind. Simple.

 

They weren't terrible, as a whole, maybe just that damn big mouthed fox, but that could be handled.

 

She dozed a few times before the morning came and she took to the air again, following Momiji's directions until she found herself on the west side of the mountain, the forest still dim in the shadow of the rising sun beyond. She drifted for a while, her eyes skimming the forest below until she caught sight of a cloud of white smoke wafting from beneath the canopy.

 

With the mountain above her she landed not too far, just a little down the slope, maybe a minute's walk and nothing more. She walked slowly, careful not to come too quickly and surprise the old woman making her breakfast or whatever it was that hermits and witches did.

 

The sun had just begun to peek through the trees and cook the dew from their leaves when she caught sight of the hut, and was surprised to see it looking so clean. The thatching on the roof was fresh, the boards of the outer walls still had green veins running through the grain, the paper of the doors had no holes nor tears, as if the whole thing had been finished just yesterday. It reminded her of a shrine more than a home, the smell of the hearthfire just before she stepped around a particularly thick maple tree and caught sight of its resident hunched quite serenely on the stone steps.

 

“What’re you here for, youkai?”

 

She definitely wasn’t the decrepit old witch that Kagura had imagined; she had a young face, plump and rosy, glossy black hair tied into a low tail that hung down her back. She wasn’t dressed too extravagantly, a long mossy green robe draped around her shoulders and a deep blue kosode underneath. A puff of smoke hung around her head from the long pipe stuck between her teeth, and all together she looked like nothing more than an ordinary human girl. But then again, there’d been Tsubaki, too, who’d taken the guise of an old woman, who knew what form she was trying to hide.

 

“Are you Shio?” Kagura asked, when the woman gave a curt nod she pulled the slip of parchment from her sleeve and tossed it on an eddy, it floated harmlessly until Shio caught it with her free hand. “I was told to find you, Momiji sent me, I need a fan made.”

 

“Momiji, huh?” She took a long drag of her pipe and scanned the letter. “What’s that ol’ bitch up to these days?”

 

“Stealing from human bandits,” Kagura shrugged, “we didn’t take too long to get to know each other.”

 

“But yet she knew you well enough to send you to me. Why?”

 

“An exchange, I suppose, she wants me to travel with her troupe.”

 

Shio exhaled thickly, letting out a thick cloud of smoke in the air between them and pulled the pipe from her mouth to loudly tap it against the step, she stood and gave Kagura a long once over.

 

“So, you gonna’ do it?”

 

“Join her?” Kagura shrugged.

 

“If I do this for you, it’ll be quite the favor,” she paused to take another drag, “and if you go off with her after this, it’ll be another for Momiji.”

 

“If you aren’t―”

 

“Why do you need it?”

 

Kagura bit her tongue. “I’m a wind user, it’s a weapon.”

 

“And what’s wrong with yours?” Shio took a few steps forward until they were an arm’s length apart and held her open palm between them, silently asking for it. Kagura glanced at it and then back at her face before she placed her fan in the woman’s hand. Shio absently flicked it open and closed, toying with the leaves and the nail in the rivet. “This isn’t so different than anything I could make, what would be the point of a new one?”

 

“It’s not… the same, as the one I had before,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, “doesn’t feel right, no matter what I do.”

 

Shio hummed and nodded, tapping her pipe against her palm. “Well then, I suppose I can see what I can do… What’s your name?”

 

“Kagura.”

 

She gave Kagura another one of her long once overs, sending a chill down her spine as the woman dragged her eyes from Kagura’s bare feet and up over her legs, her belly, her chest, and then her face and finally came to stop at the top of her head. Shio took a step forward and Kagura fought the urge to take a step backwards, opting to raise her chin and stare down her nose at the witch as Shio raised a hand up between them and quick as lightning ripped a strand of hair right from her head.

 

“Oi!” Kagura shrieked and jumped away.

 

“Wind-user Kagura, then,” she muttered, staring at the thin black strand pinched between her fingers. “It was necessary.” She was nonchalant as Kagura fumed with her mouth agape and a hand clamped to her scalp. Shio turned without so much as a second glance and began to walk away. “Go run an errand for me and then come back in three days, I don’t need you hanging over my shoulder.”

 

Kagura snapped her mouth shut and glared at the back of her head, her hands balled into fists. She hadn't been planning to hang around, so fine, she could run an errand if that gave her an excuse to get the hell out of there. The top of her head still smarted.

 

“Fine. What do you want?”

 

* * *

 

In hindsight, there were certain things Kagura should have put more thought into. The first being blindly trusting the oni, and the second being the mountainside witch. Boredom and a lack of communication had made her soft, stupid, and all too gullible. Which was why, not even an hour later, she found herself clutching a soft bundle and scouring a human village.

 

_“I need you to make a delivery, to a man who lives in the village below the mountain.”_

 

A simple enough request, Shio had disappeared into her little hovel, swallowed up by the black chasm that was her front door. A little unnerving, that, as she waited outside, there was no sound, no echo, no flicker of light penetrated that black hole she’d gone into. She returned a few minutes later, a palm sized bundle wrapped in a large leaf cradled in her hand.

 

The instructions she’d been given were easy to follow. A man named Mamoru, in the last hovel along the river. Shio had said she’d know it by the smell, and Kagura hadn’t thought to question whatever that meant before she’d gone on her way.

 

She dropped from the sky just at the perimeter of the tiny farming village, the edge of the rice fields a stark contrast from the cool forest she waited in. Only late spring and she could see the heat shimmering in the air; a few human men hid in the shade of a cypress tree, taking their break from planting, too hot to keep working in the midday sun.

 

She hesitated on the edge of the field, scanning the row of huts that made up the village, no more than ten families. The river flowed just beyond a rise, invisible, though she knew it was there, which left her with only two options of where she was meant to go. But as she looked them over, it was an easy pick to make. A little farther away from the other homes and down river, the little dilapidated looking hut, the thatching of the roof looking worse for wear than the others. If she was meant to follow her nose, then she could eyeball it and see which would stink worse.

 

Kagura picked her way along the tree line, careful to stay in the shade of the forest until she had to cross the dirt road and what Shio had said hit her nose and she nearly gagged.

 

The scent of death, something dead or dying, she couldn’t tell which. Kagura hastened her step, nearly jumped across the road to avoid the villagers noticing her. She stepped into the cover the hut provided, cutting her off from their line of sight. The smell was even worse here, and she realized why the thing had been placed so far from the rest of the village.

 

The wood was nearly rotted through, and when she came to the door she saw that the straw mat hung above it was no more worse for wear; much of the straw was missing, and it had a long haphazard tear near the bottom. Corpses and bones had never bothered her, but she absently hoped that it was Mamoru dead in there, at least then she could get away from that sickening stench. She moved to part the curtain with her fan, but it seemed she wouldn’t have much luck.

 

“Mamoru?”

 

She almost jumped at the voice, but composed herself enough and cleared her throat.

 

“No,” she said, sliding the curtain just a little further. In the shadows of the hut she could make out the hearth, coals still smoldering, and a man―a boy?―laying on his back and covered in a moth bitten blanket beside it. “But I am looking for him.”

 

“Oh,” his voice was a rumble, like stones tumbling down a mountainside, he coughed weakly, a pathetic thing, “he isn’t here… he’ll be back soon…”

 

“When?”

 

He coughed again, she couldn’t see his face from her position, but his belly trembled and something wet sounded from his lungs. “...what time is it?”

 

“Noon.”

 

“Soon, then,” he wheezed, “you can… come in to wait… if you’d like.”

 

Distasteful, she had no interest in spending time in the leper’s ward, the smell of rot already too strong from the other side of the threshold. She glanced back at the men in the fields, still lazing under the tree. One turned his head her way, and with a heavy sigh she parted the curtain and stepped inside.

 

A corpse was a corpse, but this was something different. The man was nothing more than bones, his face gaunt and cheekbones sharp and protruding, his eyes sunken into his head, even underneath the blanket she could make out the outline of his ribs, and something that bulged in the space just beneath them. He didn’t move as she entered, save for his eyes, which slid to stare at her. She fought back a grimace at the sight of him, and in the dim light she thought she saw a glimmer of something on his cheek.

 

“Are you… his bride?”

 

She snorted, and covered her face with her fan, the movement pulling in a cool breeze that helped air out some of the stink. Either he had always been dimwitted or whatever disease gripped him had taken his sight.

 

“No, I have a delivery for him.”

 

“Oh.”

 

She hated to look at him, and was thankful when he finally pulled his gaze away to stare at the ceiling.

 

“...feels nice.”

 

“Hn?”

 

He opened his mouth and licked his cracked lips, but whatever he’d been about to say was interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside. Kagura tensed and stepped away from the door, backing into the wall and the small corner of shadow.

 

“Nii-san?”

 

A burly hand pulled back the curtain and a man stepped inside, simple grin, bare feet, top knot and all. He carried a bowl of rice and a ceramic jug around his waist and was quick to deposit them both on the floor at his brother’s side.

 

“Mamoru, someone’s here…”

 

He turned, and Kagura stifled a groan at what she knew was coming next.

 

His eyes bugged out of his head and he fell back on his ass, one arm thrown out in front of him in self defense.

 

“ _Y-youkai!_ ”

 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Shio told me to bring you this,” she said, and tossed the  parcel to him, it bounced off his chest and he narrowly caught it in shaking hands.

 

“Shio?” He acted as if he’d been slapped, shaking his head viciously and snapping his mouth shut with an audible clack. He stared at the package in his hands with wide eyes for a moment. “So then this is…?”

 

“I don’t know what it is, I was only told to bring it.”

 

Something changed on his face, a furrow in his brow, and while a small smile flitted across his face, a divet formed on his chin, deep as a valley as he turned to looked at his brother.

 

“Nii-san, this is the medicine she promised us.”

 

His brother closed his eyes, a wide grin pulling at his sallow cheeks, he closed his eyes, but it didn’t stop the flow of tears that leaked down his face. Kagura felt a chill down her spine, she shouldn’t be here for this.

 

“Anyway, I’ll be going―”

 

“Wait!” Mamoru jumped to his feet, apparently no longer terrified of her, a fact she lamented as she crossed her arms and glared at him. “Just wait, I wanted to send something for her, it won’t be much but, would you wait here while I go get it?”

 

She did audibly groan this time, throwing her head back in exasperation. That did seem to frighten him, just a little, as he flinched away from her.

 

“Fine. Go, be quick. I ain’t patient.”

 

He nodded and was out the door in seconds.

 

Kagura tapped her foot anxiously. To be left there with the dying man, this was getting fucking ridiculous―

 

“Youkai…?”

 

She inhaled slowly and turned to look down at him. “What?”

 

The pain was evident on his face as he moved, struggled to prop himself up on his elbows. His breathing became ragged, and he was barely able to turn himself onto his side.

 

“Have you ever… killed anyone…?”

 

Kagura raised a brow, not exactly the question she’d been expecting.

 

“A few.” It depended on who he considered “anyone”.

 

He made a sound like a hum, but wasn’t looking at her, instead struggling to reach for the package his brother had dropped. He shifted, wriggled forward on his shoulder, rasping all the way, and dammit if something didn’t ache in her chest just watching him, the pitiful crawl he subjected himself to until she’d finally had enough and walked over to nudge the thing with her foot so that it rolled towards him.

 

He smiled, whispered a thank you, and dropped onto his back. The packaging itself was the next struggle, though it came away easily when he pulled the string with his teeth and the contents spilled onto his chest. A simple packet of pink paper, folded so as not to spill it’s contents.

 

“It… isn’t medicine…”

 

“I know.”

 

He glanced at her, that same little smile tugging at his lips. It looked painful. He moved again, reaching for the bowl of rice, he slid it across the floor and tipped its contents into the coals.

 

“He thinks… that I don’t…”

 

With shaking fingers he unfolded the packet and spilled its contents into the empty bowl. She’d expected something sinister, but the soft green of the powder was an almost soothing hue. Next was the jug of water, which for all the bravado he was showing her, he couldn’t quite hold onto. It slipped from his fingers, sloshing as it tipped and rolled off the floor and onto the dirt by her feet.

 

“So you mean to do it yourself?” she asked, feeling a little hollow as she picked up the jug and held it to her chest.

 

“I don’t… want him to have to…” he said, watching her. “I’m his big brother…”

 

Was this some sort of test? Or had Shio merely been looking for someone else to pawn this particular errand off on, and she’d come at just the right time. She had no qualms over killing, but this was… different.

 

Or it wasn’t.

 

She stepped onto the wooden floor and knelt beside him, uncorking the jug and pouring just enough water to cover and dissolve the powder. She corked the bottle again and swirled the bowl to mix it all together, making something that looked like a viscous green tea. It smelled sweet.

 

Kagura held it up to him, expecting him to take it from her, but when he brought a shaking hand up to it, he merely cupped her fingers in his own and brought it to his lips, downing the liquid in a surprisingly smooth gulp.

 

When he relaxed his hold―that subtle pressure that could hardly really _hold_ anything―she dropped the bowl, it rolled onto the floor, spinning on its edge until it finally stopped with a hollow _thunk!_ She didn’t pull her hand away, ice in her limbs keeping her frozen in place as he fell onto his back, their hands still suspended in the air above his chest. He moved then, whether it was gravity pulling his arm or by his own accord, but either way her palm found a resting place on his forehead, cold and clammy.

 

“Thank you…” he coughed, something gurgled in his throat, and he closed his eyes, “your hand is… very warm… it’s nice…”  

 

Her breath caught in her throat and she jerked away from him, her back slammed into the wall and she clutched her hand to her chest just as the sound of running footsteps reached her ears. Kagura spun as Mamoru threw the curtain open, his eyes bloodshot and his face swollen.

 

“Didn’t mean to make you wait so long―” he dropped a hefty bundle of rice at her feet, “―did you―”

 

She didn’t wait for whatever he was about to ask her, she grabbed the bundle by its rope and hoisted it over her shoulder and shoved past him, needing to get _out._

 

“...sorry, Mamoru…”

 

If either of them sobbed, she didn’t know, didn’t care. It didn’t matter, anyways, a corpse was a corpse was a corpse, and none of it would make a difference. She ran to the tree line, and maybe the village men started shouting, but she hardly heard it over the pounding in her ears or the rush of the wind as she took to the sky.

 

None of it fucking mattered.

 

She cursed herself, cursed the mountain witch, cursed that damn Momiji.

 

All that just for a goddamn fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, only because it’s been split into two, which would’ve been some 6000 words if I’d left with the next chapter as I’d planned. Oops.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	9. II. A Goddamn Fan

She had half a mind to kill that fucking witch. To bring a typhoon down on that mountain and see what lurked in that hovel she called a home.

 

She’d killed before, would kill again, had done and would do it without remorse and without a second thought. But no one had ever _thanked_ her for it, no one had looked at her and held her hand and smiled like she’d done them some great service as they took their last breath. What the hell kind of business did they have doing that?

 

More than anything, she hated being kept in the dark. If Shio had told her what the package was she would have simply gone and sliced his neck herself, she didn’t need the dead man or his fucking brother looking at her as some savior. His hand had been clammy and cold, the first time anyone had really touched her since… well, those hands had been tipped with claws, but this had been _different._

 

She leapt from her feather just before she passed over the break in the forest canopy, she tossed the bundle of rice in front of her. It hit the dirt with a solid thud, kicking up a cloud of dirt that tickled her nose as she landed. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the thing had split open upon impact.

 

The witch sat calmly on her stoop, pipe between her teeth, a giant loom before her as she worked, threading the fibers between each other and clicking them into place.

 

“Back so soon?” She didn’t look up from her task. “How did it go?”

 

Kagura grimaced and jammed a finger in her direction. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!”

 

“I didn’t think you’d mind.”

 

“I wouldn’t have if you had said I was going to kill someone!”

 

“Kill him?” Shio raised her head and a brow at her, her fingers pausing above the loom. “I only meant for you to deliver the medicine.”

 

“You don’t have to lie to me, I ain’t that fucking dumb,” she growled, crossing her arms, “ _he_ knew it wasn’t medicine, didn’t even have the strength to pour the poison down his own fucking throat.”

 

“Poison? Don’t insult me, I don’t do poisons.” Her fingers started to move again as her gaze dropped back to the loom.

 

“No? Then what the fuck else could something meant to kill be?”

 

Shio let out a heavy sigh, smoke curling around her head. “It was necessary. Some would consider it a kindness.”

 

Kagura scoffed and looked away, tapping a finger against her forearm.

 

“Did you come to moralize at me?”

 

“Moralize?” she snorted, “I don’t give a shit about them.”

 

“Then what?”

 

“Tch,” she plucked a feather from her hair, and gestured to the rice bundle with her chin. “The brother wanted me to give that to you.”

 

“Hn, you should take it back.”

 

“Not likely,” she muttered under her breath, and left just as quickly as she’d come.

 

* * *

 

They set the hovel in on fire, watched it burn down to ashes in order to cleanse whatever evil lurked in its shadows. Then they burnt his body, dragged the corpse downriver and as far from the village as the men could go, tossed it on top of a pile of timber and dry underbrush. They’d tied the body as tightly as they’d dared, most everyone afraid to touch the splotchy red sores that covered his skin; but the corpse still cracked and popped and struggled under the heat of the flames, the stink of burnt hair thick in the air and the black smoke that rolled and threatened to suffocate them. Most slunk away from the burning sting of the smoke, afraid that it would carry disease into their lungs, until only one remained. He tossed his own clothing into the fire, watched it burn in nothing but his fundoshi until the bones were scorched and blackened. Then he tilled the dirt, smothering the flames and hiding the ash and soot beneath soft earth. When that was done he went to the river, and one by one brought small stones to pile upon the vacant burial mound. He sat for a time, quiet and contemplative, staring at his work, before the sun began to sink and the temperature dropped. He dropped into a deep bow, prostrating himself, and then, silently, he stood, slung his shovel over his shoulder, and walked back to the village.

 

“Why’d you do it?”

 

He nearly dropped the shovel, his head swinging and his eyes struggling to find her in the oncoming twilight, until she dropped from her perch on a branch just above the path and landed silently before him.

 

“It’s you…” His mouth flapped, gaping like a fish as he stared at her with bulging wide eyes.

 

“Why’d you do it?” she asked again.

 

He snapped his mouth shut and averted his gaze.

 

“Well?”

 

He inhaled sharply, and his eyes shot up to meet hers, a furrow in his brow and a muscle in his jaw pulsing as he clenched his teeth. But then just as suddenly he deflated, his shoulders fell and he closed his eyes with a sigh. The dark circles under his eyes all the more blatant as he hung his head.

 

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he said, and made to walk past her.

 

She watched him go past her, his steps heavy, and she wondered if he forced his back straight and held his head so high on purpose. He stank of sweat, and the subtle lines segmenting his body spoke of hard work in the fields.

 

“It does to me.”

 

He stopped and his shoulders heaved with a sigh.

 

“He… was my brother,” he said softly, “he was dying and―” his shoulders trembled and his voice caught in his throat, “I couldn’t―couldn’t let him keep suffering…”

 

He struggled to control his breathing, his shoulders heaving with the effort as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “I’ll miss him, but it was better to end it than let him die in pain.”

  
  


“Don’t you have anyone like that?”

 

Had she? Naraku had never been a father to her, nothing but a ruthless master. There’d been Goshinki, who’d called her “Ane-ue” with less affection than he’d used to describe how he would maim the humans he devoured. The white haired ones… Kageroumaru and Juroumaru? Had meant nothing to her. Musou hadn’t lived long enough, nor the other failures. Hakudoushi and the baby had been nothing but Naraku’s spectres, more devious and cruel, but never her equal. Kohaku… she’d given her life for him, once, when she’d thought there was no other option, but he had his own people who’d come for him, and she… she’d gone to die, she hadn’t been alone, but she wasn’t going to indulge herself in that. There’d been Kanna, but Kanna―

 

“No.”

 

He hummed and raised his head, turned just enough to look at her over his shoulder.

 

“That’s sad.”

 

He started walking again. She watched him go.

 

* * *

 

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to come back.”

 

The same as before, Shio sat, hunched over and smoking her long pipe on the steps in front of her home. Even through the trees, the light of the setting sun lit the witches’ hut in flickering orange hues, as if awash in flame. The door behind her was open, but still, no light penetrated that unending darkness.

 

“I thought I’d give you an extra day to get it done, just in case,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

 

“How generous of you,” she hummed, and looked up at her. Kagura crossed her arms fighting the grimace as the witch stood, idly flicking her pipe as she stepped into that black chasm that was her home. It was several minutes before she appeared, an apparition glowing against that darkness behind her, and held in both hands, exactly what had been promised.

 

Kagura eyed the fan as Shio descended the steps. Closed as it was, she couldn’t tell much, other than it was bigger than the one she’d had, and that the guard was white, polished… ivory? Possibly, it reflected the light just enough that at first glance she thought it was glowing. The tail swished through the air as she walked, a deep shade of indigo, nearly violet. Shio stopped just outside of her arm’s reach and it held it between them, a bored expression on her face.

 

“A fighting fan for the Wind-User Kagura.”

 

Kagura plucked it from her hand gently, appraising its weight before she opened it with a sharp flick of her wrist. The sound of the ribs unfurling, swiftly sliding against each other had always been deeply satisfying and she took a moment to savor it before she twirled her wrist, feeling the weight of it in her palm. The slip had been painted an ombre, from a pale blue the color of a midday sky at the edge to a darker shade like just before the sunrise at the bottom with flecks of white like starlight scattered over it.

 

She reached for the human’s fan at her belt, lighter and softer in her hand, and tossed it absently over her shoulder and into the trees. Shio exhaled sharply through her nose.

 

“Littering on my property? Charming.”

 

Kagura ignored her. “Is there a tree you’d like to see gone?”

 

Shio’s annoyance was nearly palpable, but she turned with a sigh and pointed at the giant maple that hung over her hut.

 

“It drops seeds in the spring and fall, hundreds of thousands, I find them in my hair,” she said, speaking softly as if the tree itself might hear, “if you’re confident that you can fell it without destroying my home then go right ahead.”

 

Kagura eyed the giant above them on the mountain’s slope. If she cut it without thinking it would fall on their heads, and she didn’t think the witch would have the patience to forgive her if she did inadvertently drop it on her house.

 

She raised her arm, the fan open and ready in her palm, and brought it down sharply, intending to curve the blade that peeled off the edge so that when it fell it was uphill rather than down. The wind was quick, difficult to follow even with her eyes as it sliced through the thick trunk, just below the first branch, and crashed into the ground beyond with a rumble. The maple faltered, the branches trembling and creaking with a sharp whine as branches snapped and the tree began to fall.

 

Straight towards them.

 

Kagura cursed as the old giant came down screaming, she brought the fan before her face and swung again, not a blade this time, but a buffer to throw the tree off its course and away into the forest. It hit the ground with an ear splitting crack that shook the ground and echoed into the forest around them. She stared at it a moment, the line of her wind blade perfectly perpendicular to the trunk, watched as it trembled and slid a few more feet down the slope, before she rounded on the witch.

 

“This isn’t any fucking different!” She screeched, shaking the fan in the air between them with a white knuckled fist. Shio was back to sitting on her step and gave her a bored once over.

 

“That fan was specially made for you, Kagura the Wind-User,” she said, taking a long drag. She shrugged. “If there’s still a problem, then it’s _you.”_

 

“ _Me?!_ I know what I―”

 

“Have you ever done any kind of training?”

 

Kagura bit her tongue and glared at her.

 

“I’ll take that as a _no_ ,” Shio said, a bit too triumphantly, “go back to your people, whatever your problem is, take it up with them.”

 

“...I don’t _have_ people,” Kagura muttered after a beat and crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling a bit more self conscious. She averted her gaze to the ground by Shio’s feet.

 

“Dead?”

 

“No,” she said sharply, and glanced back up to meet her eyes. There was no judgement or pity there, for which there was a drop of gratefulness warming in her chest. “I’ve never _had_ a people.”

 

“Oh?” Shio paused on a puff and blew the air out quickly through her nostrils. “Then how did you learn? You aren’t a ghost, and it doesn’t seem like you’re tied to any object or emotion…”

 

“I… I’m not any of those things…” She didn’t want to have to explain it to a stranger, that she was… what? An amalgamation of a hundred different youkai, maybe more, repurposed and reshaped into something _else…_ “I was born knowing, I never had to learn or practice. I just knew.”

 

“Hn,” Shio stood up from her stoop and walked down to her, a pensive furrow in her brow.

 

Kagura didn’t shy away, even as the witch stepped inside her bubble and reached for her free hand. Her arm tensed, ready to jerk her hand away, even as Shio turned it so that she could examine her palm, cool fingers holding her wrist steady. An odd sensation, her pulse jumped and then slowed, but if she noticed Shio paid it no mind; she simply stared at her hand, her eyes narrowing and head tilted to the side.

 

“In that case, I think your only option is the gods.”

 

Shio unfortunately missed the incredulous look on Kagura’s face, but she did hear the sardonic guffaw that left her lips and finally dropped her hand when Kagura’s shoulders began to shake. Well she hadn’t wanted her to stop whatever she was doing, but―

 

“The _gods?”_ she sputtered, a mocking grin on her face. “Are you off your shit? What the fuck is in that pipe? _The gods_ !” She slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “What the hell are they gonna’ do for me? Give me a blessing if I pray hard enough? _Please._ The gods. Tuh!”

 

Shio raised an eyebrow and gave her a dull stare, though there was definitely a smirk threatening the corners of her mouth. “Control of the wind isn’t something you come by easily, you’re the first I’ve ever met, and if you’re saying that even _you_ don’t know anyone, then what does that leave?”

 

Kagura bit back her laughter and grimaced.

 

“Maybe if you pray hard enough they’ll give you a fan even nicer than the one I’ve made.”

 

“Ha! I ain’t one for that, not about to start clapping and bowing to something I can’t even see.”

 

“You can’t see the wind.”

 

Kagura narrowed her eyes. “That’s different.”

 

“Is it?”

 

“I don’t _have_ to see the wind to know it’s there, I can feel it. It’s a part of me the same as I’m a part of it.”

 

“Is that so?” A smirk pulled at her lips. “Then it’s not so different is it?”

 

She rolled her eyes. The witch was going to keep pushing it, she knew, but as Kagura glared up at the leaves above her head, she was starting to get the feeling that maybe Shio had a point. “And how the hell am I, a _youkai_ , supposed to do that? How am I even supposed to find them? You say it as if I’m pious.”

 

“Stranger things have happened,” Shio said with a shrug, the smirk fully grown on her face, the bit of her pipe glinted from between her teeth, “youkai are nothing but spirits, a darker, but necessary, part of the world, aren’t they?”

 

Kagura snorted.

 

“Either way, you want to figure out what’s causing your…” she didn’t try hard enough to silence her small chuckle, “performance issues, don’t you?”

 

She huffed and looked away, and this time Shio audibly laughed.

 

“There are two wind gods enshrined at Ise, to the west, it isn’t so far from here,” she said, “there isn’t any harm in going, well, not death anyway… unless you plan to train for a hundred years?”

 

“No,” she bit out, and finally looked up to meet Shio’s eyes. She was surprised to see kindness there.

 

“Well then,” she smiled and suddenly gave Kagura’s shoulder a solid smack, “I made you your fan, now get the hell out of here so I can go back to enjoying my solitude.”

 

Kagura snorted and rolled her eyes, rubbing the spot where Shio’s hand had just been. She surprised even herself by not being offended by it. “I was just waiting for you to stop talking, didn’t want to be _rude_.”

 

Shio’s eyes glinted, a spark in the final dying rays of the sun but she said nothing to that. Her smile never faltered even as Kagura stepped back and reached for her bun, pinching a feather between two fingers and tossing it into the air. She was on it and hovering above Shio’s little hovel within seconds.

 

“I suppose I should thank you for the fan,” she called down.

 

“That would be the polite thing to do,” Shio called back, the cloud of smoke hanging around her head dancing in the wind.

 

“You’re right, it would.”

 

She narrowly missed Shio’s eye roll as she pushed her feather forward with a strong gust that shot her up into the sky, high enough to bring a sliver of sun back into her field of vision. She thought she heard something like a chuckle on the breeze, but ignored it in favor of chasing the dying light.

 

It only occurred to her later, once the moon shone brightly down on her head, that she hadn’t thought to ask where exactly Ise was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be out of town starting next week, so not sure if there’ll be an update for next week, otherwise look forward to the next chapter sometime in July


	10. II. The Holy City

**** “Ise you say?”

 

“I’ve heard it’s the holiest site in the whole country!”

 

Kagura sighed. “Yeah, I want to know how to get there.”

 

“Get where?”

 

“To Ise you fucking morons!” She snapped.

 

“Ise you say?”

 

“I’ve heard it’s―”

 

She wasn’t about to listen to any more of that, had already gone around in a circle with the two fucking kappa for what felt like an hour. She would kill herself, or them, or both, if she had to sit through it a second longer. She plucked a feather from her bun and took to the air, didn’t pay attention to the wave that went barrelling over their heads in her wake.

 

Five days since she’d left the witch, a wiggling suspicion at the back of her mind. It wasn't as if she needed to go, or that she was in a hurry to get there, but… 

 

On one hand, she could learn what ailed her and possibly become more powerful. An unnecessary precaution, given that so many of the strongest youkai had been sown into her own skin. She was confident in her own abilities against whoever was left. On the other hand… it certainly wouldn’t hurt.

 

In the end, curiosity ruled over any fear she had, she’d faced the guardians of the underworld and somehow survived, after all. What harm could gods do to her that her own―she hated to think of the word “ _ family _ ”―hadn’t already done? Killed, tortured, toyed with, she’d been through all that at his hands, and he’d had much less moral capacity than the gods should. So her feather had found itself following Shio’s direction with less resistance than she’d anticipated.

 

She’d said she wouldn't die, but it wouldn’t make a difference if she couldn’t find the damn place! She'd said west, so Kagura’d gone west. Then she’d been told that it was by the sea, which meant south or much further west than the witch had implied. But then again, the monk who’d told her that had nearly jumped out of his skin when she’d landed in front of him, so maybe his directions were to be taken with a grain of salt.

 

Once she did find the ocean to the south, she preferred following the shoreline over human made roads, the ocean breeze made flying easier and cooled the heat of the sun beating down on her neck. She didn’t fly too high, instead let the ocean spray mist her skin. 

 

Below, a boulder jutted up from the seabed, not far from the shore, and on it, being buffeted by the crashing waves, lay the coiled tail of a giant serpent.

 

“Oi!”

 

A woman’s head popped up, thick black hair clinging to her scaly skin and acidic yellow eyes glaring at her. 

 

“What?” she hissed, a forked tongue slipping between her teeth as Kagura descended just low enough to hear her properly. The snake propped her head up in her palm.

 

“How far to Ise?”

 

“ _ Ise?”  _ the woman snorted, “the fuck you doin’ goin’ there?”

 

“That’s my business.”

 

The snake shook her head and waved down the shore. “Not far. You’ll see it once you cross the bay,” she said, and laid back down in her coil.

 

“Thanks,” Kagura called down, already lifting back into the air; the wind buffeting her ears that she hardly heard the warning:

 

_ “Watch that you don’t get purified!” _

 

* * *

She saw it before she reached the bay, before the mountains on the other side rose from the sea. She didn’t need direction anymore, knew where it was all the same, a soft, glowing light shimmering over the horizon and growing larger as she went west. Even with the light of the afternoon sun burning bright in her face, that glow was still visible, like a fire blazing just out of sight or the lights of a distant city. 

 

Briefly, she wondered if she should be nervous, if she should heed the snake’s warning. She’d been trapped in Mt. Hakurei’s depth for weeks enough to know not to toy with holy places, one wrong step could get her burnt to ashes; she’d seen too many of the restless youkai she’d been trapped with do the very same, and had had no interest in joining them in their fate, as stir crazy as she’d become in that darkness. But, as the sun dropped low and that glow over the horizon grew brighter still, she didn’t feel any different. Getting too close to the barriers at the mountain had made her sluggish, but the breeze that kissed her skin as she flew was different; the usually sharp lash of the wind sent electric shocks along her nose and cheeks. The air beneath her feather lifted once the peninsula and its islands came into view, pulling her in, something that would usually give her pause if not for the purity of it, no malice in those eddies that she knew she could fight if she’d wanted to.

 

There were still humans wandering the shrine grounds by the time she passed over the border from the south, too high for them to recognize her for what she was. Like stepping through a waterfall, the sparks along her skinned fizzled, replaced by a cool mist that was almost cold. Like a beacon, the two yards of the grand shrine shone bright against the green of the forest, the white stone glittered like pearls in the sun, the outline of the old shrine houses stood out in the old yard, ghosts holding the space sacred for another twenty years until the shrine would be rebuilt again, while the fresh roof thatching in the new still had flecks of green and the wood still held the warm glow of life. 

 

Kagura landed softly on a shadowed path, uncaring for the decorum of crossing the bridge or under the torii gates. The wind was enough to tell her she’d crossed onto holy ground unharmed.

 

The humans dwindled as the sky darkened and the roosters gave their nightly call, long and loud. She used her fan to cover her face and waited near the river, sitting atop a large boulder, hidden by the overhanging trees and muffled by the gurgling waters, until the sun finally dipped below the horizon and she was sure everyone had gone. Just upstream, she spotted a white crane wading in the current. She watched it, surprised to see it still hunting at the late hour, only for it to turn its massive head towards her―and she swore it was looking at her―its red crown a beacon in the darkness and its violet eyes sparkling, just before it beat its massive wings and flew beyond a bend and out of sight. Unsettled, Kagura stood and made her way back up to the shrine.

 

The torches were still lit, and there were enough shadows to hide her, but being found lurking by some errant priest held no interest for her as she gingerly made her way back up. The steps were steep and damp, mist from the mountains already clinging to the ground. The hazy glow drifting over the wall of the grand shrine beckoned, but when she stopped at the torii gate and read the plaque, it was only to the sun goddess. She had no use for Amaterasu, so she continued down the path, only to meet the end of it. 

 

A chicken clucked in the underbrush and she crossed her arms, glaring into the shadows. The smaller shrines she'd passed had been to lower deities, but she hadn't seen any mention of a wind god. She turned around, walking back towards the entrance. Just before the main hall, there was a path she'd ignored before, the priests hadn't lit the way, but as she focused she could make out the outline of a torii in the moonlight. Curious, she turned down it. 

 

A bridge appeared in the darkness, not very long, only enough to cross the shallow stream below, and on either side: a gate. Her feet thumped hollowly against the thick timbers, yet the further she went, the quieter the forest became. The trees stilled, the shuffling of animals ceased, and the soft sound of the stream below tapered out until she couldn’t hear it anymore. She glanced down, a flash of white in the darkness below. In the ankle deep waters, a white crane. The same as before? It stared at her, and a shiver ran down her spine, causing her to falter in her step. She stopped just at the end of the bridge, the torii looming over her head as she watched it. 

 

"Oh, fuck off." If not for the threads of wind, the gentle pressure against her spine, the sensation of life and breath that flowed around her she would have turned back, but she’d come too far now for that. Kagura grit her teeth and her legs moved forward, determined to ignore those violet eyes watching her. The gods― and definitely not some bird―would not make a coward of her, she’d survived more than this.

 

Ahead, the path opened. The empty yard of the previous shrine filled with those same white stones, the new building facing away from her as she approached from behind. These didn't have the same hazy glow as those in Amaterasu's yard, the smooth rounded rocks mottled gray, and their light mere reflections of the moonlight, darker than that pure white of the main shrine. As she rounded the corner, she spotted the sign post.

 

"Kazehinomi no Miya…" Hn, it seemed the wind gods liked their privacy.

 

Far from the others, the shrine was small, only three steps higher than the footpath and a torii marking the sacred border. Beyond, the short distance to the shrine door was covered, a roof for the pious to pray. Generous, if not for the picket fence to keep them away from the shrine's door, and a taller fence beyond that to keep them from seeing inside.

 

Kagura paused, shifted her weight from foot to foot as she glared at the door, toeing the short stone steps into the yard. She supposed she'd already come this far, and pulled her legs up.

 

The stones were cool on her soles, clicked under her weight, shifting against each other to make room for her. The torii was only a few steps from the path, and she could nearly see the divide, the stones a little whiter, a little smoother, on the other side. A cool breeze met her head on as she stepped underneath the gate and then stomped right up to the short picket fence in front of the shrine's door. She glared down at the donation box and crossed her arms over her chest.

 

How to start? She had half a mind to start cussing at them. She felt stupid, standing there in the dark and staring at the fencing. Shio had put the idea in her head, curiosity and boredom and a desire for knowledge had propelled her feather, but she had no idea where to begin or what she was even meant to ask for.Humans bowed and gave offerings, but she wouldn’t subject herself to that. Gods or no, prostrating herself was beneath her; she would not grovel or beg. 

 

“Oi,” she started, “I have no offering for you, but you’re listening, aren’t you? That’s what you all do, isn’t it?”

 

The whistling in the trees faded to silence and Kagura slowly shut her mouth, listening for anything amiss. When nothing came, she continued:

 

“I guess I need your help,” she said, a little softer, her nails digging through the fabric of her sleeves and into her arms, “just a little favor, some direction maybe, don’t have much of anyone to ask about this sort of thing, you know…”

 

Something shifted, like the forest took a breath, a gasp, and she paused to turn her head. She held her breath, trying to sense the source only to come up with nothing. She sighed and started again:

 

“My name is Kagura and I―” 

 

A wail, a keening screech echoed around her, sending a shiver up her spine and leaving her ears ringing. Her hands clamped over the sides of her head, she spun, trying to find that pitiful shriek only to find nothing. The forest still loomed over her, the flames of the torches had hardly flickered, and everything just as unmoving as before. 

 

Kagura waited, gooseflesh pebbling along her skin and eyes scanning the forest before she turned back to the shrine, her breathing still a little quick and her heart pounding a heavy staccato to the tune of _ I shouldn’t have come, I shouldn’t have come, I shouldn’t―  _

 

This time, a sob, choked and hiccuped, but a sob nonetheless. Kagura froze, trying to pinpoint the sound as it tapered off into a muffled wet gasp. It wasn’t far off, but as she eyed the forest again she saw nothing amiss, no apparition making itself known amongst the shadows. The weeping continued, quieter, but still no sign of the culprit.  _ Unless… _

 

She swung a leg over the picket fence, had to hike her robes almost to her knee to do it cleanly, but she managed. She reached for the iron handle of the door, hesitated, but a breeze settled along her shoulders and with a heavy hand she took hold of it and gave it a yank. 

 

More stones and a set of stairs leading up to the shrine’s entrance. Another sacred space inside the solid fencing, another barrier that did nothing to her. With a snort she stomped up the stairs and laid her hand against the door to the shrine, the wood was warm and smooth against her palm as she took a breath before she grabbed hold of the handle and pulled. The door groaned, something snapped, probably a lock or bolt to keep those like her out, but it slid open, the smell of fresh cedar hitting her square in the face. She tried to peer inside, to squint, but she saw nothing in that yawning chasm of inky blackness; she leaned in deeper, her weight held against the door frame. She was only met with silence. Had the sobbing stopped? 

 

She shifted, started to raise her leg to step inside, but a screech had her jumping out of her skin as  _ something  _ came screaming out of the shrine, right at her face. Kagura jumped to the side, falling down the steps in the process, an arm shielding her face as red eyes and a furred white face with gleaming fangs nearly took her head off. Skeletal wings and skin stretched too thin slapped the air just above her head and flew off into the night, that pitiful sound of sobbing echoing in the trees long after it had disappeared.

 

Kagura sat amongst the stones, frozen and staring into the forest before she finally took a shaky breath and pulled herself to her feet. 

 

A bat. A fucking bat! Fuck this. Why she’d let that damn witch put the idea in her head, she didn’t know, but it ended here; creepy animals and barriers that didn’t do shit, and the too serene air was getting to her. She straightened her hair and clothes, and took one last glance up inside the shrine. They’d have to fix the door in the morning but― 

 

Something glimmered in the darkness. Kagura pursed her lips. 

 

Bad idea, she knew that much. Her leg lifted and stepped up regardless, a phantom weight tugging at her muscles and making them move until she stood at the threshold again. Like looking through fog, she couldn’t make out the source of the light, hazy and blurred as it was. 

 

“Hello?”

 

Her voice echoed and she felt stupid. As long as there weren’t anymore fucking bats flying around she would be fine. She stepped inside, her feet thumping hollowly against the floorboards. She blinked, tried to force her eyes to adjust to the darkness, to make out that subtle warm blue glow only a few feet in front of her face. It materialized from the shadows, lines and angles hardening as her eyes adjusted, only to finally be― 

 

She blinked. Then bit her tongue before a curse escaped her. Kagura turned her eyes to the ceiling and sighed.

 

A fan. Is that why Shio had sent her here? Because she’d known what the wind god’s token was? A cruel joke to mock her with, a fool’s errand to teach her some lesson, she supposed, even as extravagant as it was…

 

Now that she could see it, it’s multicolored leaves emblazoned with gold flecks and the image of a bird she couldn’t name: it’s long green and blue tail feathers flared out behind it in a dramatic display across the technicolor paper. The guard looked like more gold, a little tarnished, but glowing nonetheless, the tassel strewn so neatly across the stand it sat upon glimmering like pure silk, a dazzling sapphire blue. Even as she took it all in, it’s silhouette burned into her retinas, the only thought going through her mind:  _ how fucking gaudy. _

 

Nothing but an ornate display of opulence, meant to impress dimwitted humans.  _ This  _ was a god’ memento? How garrish. Kagura scoffed as she eyed it, her arms crossed over her chest. She circled the dais with small steps, the fan’s glow didn’t waver, and something in her finger itched, her muscles moved with phantom intent until she ran her thumb along the paper’s edge. Smooth as silk and warm to the touch, she jerked her hand away just as quickly, unnerved.

 

Done, she’d seen whatever Shio had wanted her to see. She stepped around the dais, and would have made for the door if her toe hadn’t collided with another stand.

 

“Fuck!” The sting didn’t bother her as much as the shock of it had. She hadn’t seen the other dais in the darkness of the shrine, stupid, even with her eyes; it wobbled against the floorboards. Something soft hit the floor, the sound echoed in the darkness, but she paid it no mind as she caught the stand with both hands and steadied it until it stopped shaking. 

 

When she was sure it was stable she squeezed between it and the other, before she stepped outside into the cool night air and pulled the shrine’s door closed with a heavy hand.

 

How pointless. Kagura eyed her feet as she stomped down the stairs. She supposed that’s what she got for listening to mountainside witches, a scenic trip but nothing to show for it. With a sigh she stepped through the outer door and then over the picket fence as she rubbed at her eyes with the back of her wrist and turned to give one the shrine one last petulant glare. Hn, at least she wasn’t dead― 

 

"That isn't yours now is it?"

 

She spun, a gasp thick in her throat that she wouldn't give air to. There on the path, just beyond the torii and nearly as large even sitting crosslegged… an oni?

 

" _ What _ ?"

 

Bulging yellow eyes rimmed by thick, bushy white eyebrows squinted at her, a sly grin spread across his face, flashed gleaming gold fangs and stretched beneath a scraggly red mustache. Leathery green skin wrinkled around his eyes as he dropped his chin into a meaty palm, a chuckle escaping his throat and causing the fat around his bare belly to jiggle.

"I said:  _ that  _ isn't yours," he said with a pointed nod, his voice rumbling and reverberating in the air between them. 

 

She grimaced at him then glanced down at her hand. Gripped tightly in her white knuckled fist: the fan from the shrine. When had she―she hadn't meant to… Kagura's head shot up to glare at the oni.

 

"What of it?"

 

"Stealing a God's artifact, quite bold of you." If his eyes could open any wider they would have as he barked out a laugh, those sharp pearly teeth shimmering in the starlight. "What do you call yourself, girl?"

 

Well, she hadn't intended to steal it, but she swallowed that thought and bared her teeth. 

 

"I'm no  _ girl, _ " she bristled and took a slow step back, the fan secure in her grip, if he meant to fight her for it then fine. He hadn't moved past the torii gate… nothing but a common oni. "My name is Kagura."

 

" _ Kagura, _ " he rolled her name around on his tongue, tasting it as his eyes appraised her. A shiver ran down her spine. "Well then,  _ Kagura,  _ what do you intend to do with it?"

 

"What business is that of yours?" 

 

He laughed again. "Curiosity, you could say.”

 

“Hn, stay curious then,” she sneered. She owed him nothing. She tucked the fan into her obi and plucked a feather from her hair, she could return it later, but she wouldn’t turn her back on him, not with him leering at her as he was.

 

“I wouldn’t do that.”

 

“Do what?” she scoffed, the feather pinched between her fingers and her fan loose in her other hand.

 

“If you leave with that,” he said, his tone bored, “they’ll be after you sooner than you’d think.”

 

“Who?” She raised a mocking brow, but her hand stilled. “ _ You _ ?”

 

He laughed again, a hearty chuckle that shook the stones under her feet and caused gooseflesh to pebble her skin. Something was wrong, the wind still and silent around her. This oni was… 

 

“No, I’m no god of Ise.”

 

_ Irritating.  _ Her fan flicked open and she raised her hand. Time to go.

 

“Then mind―” she swung “―your fucking business!”

 

...Nothing.

 

Her fan swept through the air without so much as a beat, no wind blade or gust peeled off the paper’s edge, hardly even a draft to show for it. Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened in horror, staring at the weapon in her hand.  _ How―?!  _

 

A sigh had her head snapping up, that infuriating grin gone from the oni’s face.

 

“...stubborn,” was all she heard before a gust of wind lashed at her back, throwing her forward through the torii gate and onto the path. She stumbled, the wind still pushing at her back and making it difficult to find her footing in the few feet between her and his crossed legs, she thought she might fall into his lap if not for the heavy palm that landed on top of her head.

 

The wind stopped but her ears kept ringing, blood pounding in her veins and fear rooting her to the spot under the weight of his hand. His grip wasn’t painful, didn’t squeeze, but was just enough to tip her head back and hold her steady in his gaze.

 

“Careful now,  _ Kagura,  _ you have a nasty habit of challenging your betters,” he tilted his head, but there was a glint in his eye, “how did that work for you the last time?”

 

Her heart stuttered and a rage bubbled in her throat so thick she would have spit at him if not for the tendril of fear that curled in her spine. “How do you―!”

 

“Oh, my dear  _ Kagura.”  _ He said her name with such derision, such mockery, and emphasized it with two pats to the top of her head, rattling her skull. “I know exactly who you are, and why you’ve come: a body made out of spare parts, an aimless freedom, and an itch you can’t scratch; the wind told me all of it before you’d even arrived. It would’ve told you not to challenge me, if  _ you  _ knew how to listen.”

 

Another pat and he released her, the sudden loss of that weight sent her teetering backwards until her ankles hit the short stone wall of the shrine’s yard; she toppled over it, landing on her ass amongst the clattering stones.

 

“...who are you?” She hated to ask, hated the way her voice wavered, but the question left her lips nonetheless.

 

“My name is Fuujin, god of the wind. It’d be in your interest to remember it.”

 

Kagura swallowed, a pause before her fingers slipped the god’s fan from her belt and tossed it on the ground before him. He eyed it curiously as it clattered amongst the gravel before he lifted his head to look at her. 

 

“There, I’m sorry, take it back,” she rambled, “I didn’t mean to take it, don’t even want it.”

 

He picked up the fan slowly, pinching it between two clawed fingers and held it before his eyes like he was weighing it before his arm extended back out to her. She leaned away.

 

“I’m not the one you should be returning it to.”

 

She bit her tongue to keep from cursing him. “Then who?”

 

“You trespass on holy ground and don’t even know who’s possessions you’re pilfering?” he said with a shake of his head and a sly grin pointedly at her, “It belongs to the wind goddess, Shinatobe.”

 

“Can’t say I’m familiar,” she managed.

 

“Hn, no, you wouldn’t be.” The grin fell from his face but those yellow eyes raked over her. Instinctively, she brought a hand to her chest. “Either way, she isn’t here.”

 

“Isn’t  _ here?” _

 

“Can’t say that she is! Been missing over a year. But, I’ll tell you what,” his grin was back, “I’ll make a deal with you to bring her back, and then you can settle it with her. You can get all your problems sorted, and she’d probably even let you keep this damn thing.”

 

He dangled the fan at her dismissively, as if she was a cat looking to play and he’d offered her solid gold.

 

“And if I don’t?”

 

Fuujin’s grin fell and he pulled his hand back. “Takahiko!”

 

His shout shook the trees and had Kagura flinching, but out of the corner of her eye something blinding white appeared from down the path to the main shrine. Spindly legs and violet eyes; Kagura blinked and jumped to her feet, that fucking― 

 

“ _ You _ !” she hissed, jabbing a finger in the crane’s direction. “I knew it, you fuckin’ freaky lil’―”

 

“Takahiko,” Fuujin’s voice rattled the air and sucked the voice from her throat, “who else knows she’s here?”

 

“The hens. Tsukuyomi-sama, I imagine,” it said, turning its head towards the crescent moon looming just above the line of trees. It spoke by opening its beak, an unsettling sight coupled its high pitched and rasping voice. “I’ve told no one else.”

 

“Well, Tsukuyomi’s learned his lesson. But I’d say a month, maybe two, before he came to find you or told someone who would, and then you wouldn’t really have a choice, dear  _ Kagura.”  _ She’d stepped within his reach when she’d jumped to her feet, and now his hand came down hard on her shoulder, knocking the air from her lungs. “So, what do you say? There’s much less trouble in bringing her back yourself.”

 

“‘ _ Kagura’? _ ” The crane parroted, a laugh just in the back of his throat, but she ignored it as she shook her shoulder from Fuujin’s grip.

 

“If it’s so much less trouble, why haven’t you done it yourself?” 

 

“She’s in a place I can’t reach,” he said with a sigh, still watching her, “and with her brother gone, she can’t come back.”

 

Kagura bristled. “There’s a brother.”

 

“Shinatsuhiko-sama,” the crane said, his head down.

 

“Right, right, they both got themselves into a bit of trouble, but that’s all done now, and from what the wind’s told me, it shouldn’t be hard for you to return them both. It won’t hurt to be in their favor. So what do you say?”

 

Kagura glared at him, feeling unsettled. With the god and the bird watching her, she felt like she was walking along a cliff’s edge, like she might fall no matter which way she turned. Fuujin’s fang’s shining behind his lips were off putting, but the more she stared the less malicious it was. He stared at her expectantly, really anticipating her choice… her choice to what? Go off hunting a god, or be hunted by them. Fucking ridiculous, she rolled her eyes.

 

“I’ll do it.”

 

“Excellent!” Even better if he stopped smiling like that. “Have you ever been to hell?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! Extra long chapter for the delay, even tho I’m not super happy with this dialogue I thought I’d throw it up just to have it posted. Hopefully I can come back to it later when I remember all the extra bits that got lost after showers and waking up.
> 
> This was so hard to write, I know its chapter 10, but this is where the second act truly begins, so it needed to be fleshed out, especially with Ise. I find it easier to completely make up a location than to describe a real one. I haven’t been to Ise in 3 years, so it's hard to get the feeling of it, rather than a made up place where I can give it whatever feeling I like. I hope i did it justice, because we'll be back in another 10 or so. 
> 
> If anyone is interested in helping me out with beta reading or editing I would greatly appreciate it! I'm terrible at editing or just rereading my work in general, so if you'd be interested DM me! Otherwise reviews are always welcome


	11. II. Blessings

“... _ What.” _

 

“Well, you see, the thing is―”

 

“Fuck you. No.” She blinked and shook her head, incredulous. God or not, infinitely more powerful than her or not, it didn’t matter. Traipsing around the countryside looking for a missing deity was one thing, but if he thought that she was about to go getting into some other world nonsense well then he could just go f― 

 

“Wait, wait,” he held up a hand to silence her, “I told you, you’re the only one who can do it, didn’t I?”

 

“Is this a joke? I really fuckin’ doubt it.” Was he soft in the head? She’d take her chances with whatever consequences would come her way rather than willingly go to hell.

 

“Alright, alright, what would convince you? What would you want? Immortality? Limitless power? A key to heaven? A godship?” He wiggled a brow at her and leaned forward, the crane had moved to stand just beside his knee and stared at her expectantly with unblinking eyes.

 

“You talked like you’d known who I was, what happened to that?” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest, having lost the sense of unease the god had first left her with.

 

He chuckled. “I know you better than you think―”

 

“ _ Then, _ ” she jammed a finger in his direction, Fuujin snapped his mouth shut, looking more amused than affronted, “you’d know I already have what I wanted: my freedom.”

 

“How is that going?” 

 

Kagura pursed her lips and glared at the bird. “What’s it to you?”

 

He wiggled his head and then turned away to preen his feathers. She guessed the bird’s equivalent of telling her to fuck off.

 

“Are you happy?”

 

She bristled at the question and snapped her head back to the god. “I’ll be even less happy if you send me to the underworld and I wind up dead.”

 

“You’ve beaten death before, what’s to make you think you wouldn’t again?”

 

“Not the same.”

 

“Hn, maybe not, but you almost are.” She didn’t lean away this time when Fuujin extended his hand and cuffed her chin. She grimaced and wiped at her face.

 

“What do you have to lose? It isn’t like anyone is waiting for you here," the crane quipped.

 

Kagura nearly choked,  _ how dare that fucking― _ but then she bit the inside of her cheek. He wasn’t all that wrong, was he? That Momiji hadn’t said they’d wait for her, only said to find her before they left for the continent, which wasn’t much of a consolation. The Inu-tachi weren’t her friends. Sesshoumaru… didn’t care. Her “family” was dead. There’d been that moment, after her first death, where she’d thought there might be something but… that had vanished just as quickly.

 

Fine. She was alone. But that didn’t mean that she was willingly going to get herself killed.

 

“What the hell could a god do to get himself killed anyway?”

 

“Shinatsuhiko-sama isn’t dead,” the bird corrected and continued preening his feathers.

 

“He’s in  _ hell _ .”

 

Fuujin let out a sharp breath, the gust that followed strong enough to rattle even her. “My dear nephew got himself involved in something he wasn’t prepared for after his sister’s disappearance, he’s been trapped in hell since. If he was dead Takahiko would have died, too, but since he hasn’t come back we’re guessing he hasn’t found the way out yet.”

 

“Then why not just wait for him to find it?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

 

The bird’s head snapped up, though she wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a glare in those beady eyes of his, he opened his beak but Fuujin’s raised hand silenced him.

 

“If he doesn’t return soon, then he won’t be able to,” he said, his tone soft, “if he eats the food of hell, he’ll be dead; if he is killed there, he’ll stay dead; if y―if his mother finds him, he’ll be dead.”

 

She wanted to slap him. “His mother.”

 

“Izanami,” Fuujin nodded, as if knowing her name made it any better.

 

“And what are the chances of  _ me  _ surviving?”

 

“Well, so long as you stay away from the three things I mentioned,” he chuckled, “then I don’t see why you wouldn’t. You underestimate yourself, Kagura.”

 

Her jaw clenched.

 

“It’s not like I’d send you without help, I’m not a monster. You’ll need a few things, and...” The crane hadn’t been paying attention, and squawked indignantly when Fuujin’s open palm came down and shoved him in her direction, all flapping wings and stomping spindly legs. “Takahiko will be going with you.”

 

Kagura grimaced, and the crane didn’t feel any differently.

 

“Me?! Fuujin-sama, my apologies, but Urue―” One look from the god and his beak snapped shut.

 

“Urue isn’t well,” he growled, his tone brooking no argument, “it’s your master she’s going to find, and if she fails it’s your head just the same.”

 

The crane kept the god’s gaze for another moment before turning to Kagura, this close, he was nearly tall enough to look her in the eye. He stared at her a moment, then slowly lowered his head in acceptance.

 

"That doesn't make me feel any better," she snapped, still eyeing the crane with uncertainty.

 

"So will you do it?"

 

She raised her chin and glared at him. Immortality as a reward sounded nice, but ultimately boring. Heaven or a godship held no interest for her either. Limitless power… that could suit her nicely in the long run… along with whatever the goddess could give her.

 

"Tell me, are god's beholden to their word?"

 

"Are you asking me if I'm a liar?" He guffawed, slapping a hand on his knee. "I would never lie to you, dear girl, of that you have my word."

 

"On your honor?" She pressed.

 

"My 'honor'? I think you might be overestimating me," he said with a grin, those fangs still sparkling.

 

"But I'll survive this?" More of a statement than a question.

 

"I can only give you the tools to do so, anything past that is up to you."

 

Kagura gave him a blank stare, let the silence drag, the god unphased until she finally sighed.

 

"Fine." 

 

He grinned, and held the goddess' fan out to her.

 

* * *

 

 

He'd said she needed something, so they'd left the shrine behind. Headed west at a much faster pace than she'd been able to make herself. On her own, she had to contend with the tumultuous eddies, had to find the path of least resistance and use the gusts to her advantage. She could force her way through, could take control if she chose, but she could only keep that pace a few hours before she tired; and she was never in such a hurry that she needed to do so regardless. But Fuujin…

 

As she drafted in his wake she could see the wind part for him, a dutiful subject that needed no orders, but obeyed of its own accord. She could see the power she’d felt when he’d stopped her wind and briefly sucked the air from her lungs, the tendrils of hot and cold wrap around his immense jade colored shoulders and run its fingers through his dusty russet hair, in the rising sun he looked like he’d been carved from stone. She tried her best to listen, as the gusts pulled them along, thought there was only the vaguest sense of playfulness in its breath. Elation, maybe?

 

When she wasn’t watching the god, she weighed the fan, watched the sunlight play along the tarnished gold of its guard. She tried to pry it open, to see the multi-hued paper in the light, but it wouldn’t budge, even when she jammed her thumb between the leaves to force it, the rivet too rusted and the ribs too swollen. She gave up after a while, only to notice the crane staring at her.

 

“What the hell is your problem?” she snapped. She tried to give him a menacing glare, but with the light of the morning sun burning into her eyes it held no bite, she could hardly keep her eyes open.

 

The crane gave her a glance and promptly ignored her.

 

“Do we need to turn around?” Fuujin’s voice boomed despite the buffeting wind, laughter clear in his tone as he gave her a look over his shoulder.

 

“No.” Kagura huffed, rolling her eyes even after her gaze caught sight of the balding patch on the crane’s belly.

 

They’d left the ocean behind hours ago as they flew through the mountains, too quickly for her to place the ranges beneath them as they went, only knew it was further than she had ever traveled. He hadn’t told her their destination, not that it mattered, with how quickly they flew. Kagura let herself relax in the wake of Fuujin’s wind, a passenger more than anything as he guided them. She didn’t mind too much, content to let someone else lead for once. 

 

The sea breached the horizon just as Fuujin began to slow, the wind buffering them as he dropped from the sky, the crane followed suit, spiraling downwards at a much slower pace. Kagura hesitated, watched his descending form until she caught sight of his destination. 

 

A cliffside manor, nearly hidden by the fog of sea spray from the waves far below. Its verandas crisscrossed around its gardens and ended at the cliff’s edge, a great patio made of wooden planks painted a vibrant red that was nearly blinding even in the fog. Fuujin made no show of it, as he flung his gigantic weight downwards so violently that Kagura thought the boards themselves might crack. Takahiko landed behind him with much less flare.

 

Fuujin’s booming voice reached her as she neared, but it wasn’t until she jumped from her feather to land lightly beside him that she could make out who he was speaking to.

 

“Kushinadahime!” Kagura had to strain her neck to get a glimpse of the grin plastered on his face, the top of her head only came to just above his hip. “Always a pleasure.”

 

“Fuujin.” The woman’s voice was deeper than she’d expected, it held an edge of tension to it, understandable as she hadn’t bothered to look up from combing her hair when they’d arrived. She sat just beyond the patio on a raised platform in the center of the garden, diligently combing through the river of black hair that fell from her head and nearly spilled off the edge of the platform. A plain face, no emotion in those eyes or those short brows, thin lips with just the barest hint of rouge. “What brings you here?”

 

“Where is your darling husband? I have business with him.”

The woman sighed and finally put down her comb, set it down in her lap and slowly looked up to them with a dull stare and a high chin. She met Fuujin’s gaze for a long moment before her eyes slid down to Kagura and the first spark of emotion flitted across her features. A thin line formed between her brows and her head tilted less than a degree as she stared. Her features smoothed out just as quickly as she straightened her spine.

 

“Husband!” 

 

Her hoarse shout echoed through the garden, and she went back to combing her hair as if nothing had happened.

 

Kagura glanced up at Fuujin, whether he noticed her stare she didn’t know as he sank down to sit crosslegged with a grin to wait. She fidgeted, he hadn’t told her who they were coming to meet, only that he would have what she needed, hadn’t even specified what that was. She shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable, even as Fuujin began to unroll something from the pack at his hip, pulled a kiseru pipe from its depths and lit it without a word. When he blew the smoke out through his nostrils it had a strange scent, almost like rain.

 

Footsteps thunked hollowly against the boards of the veranda, and in the fog, she could make out a figure approaching them. Through the haze she could only make out the mess of black hair that wafted around his head, twisted in thick coils and pulled into a half knot on his crown. Bushy eyebrows like caterpillars crawling over his face just above stern and deep set black eyes, a thin trailing mustache that fell across the chest of his pale gray suikan, the collar just loose enough to reveal a chest thick with hair. The smooth flow of his gate was offset by his heavy step, his footfalls echoing against the ground. His wife paid him no mind as he approached, set in her task, she did not even pause in her movements when he stopped just level with her and gave her a long stare before he raised his gaze up to Fuujin.

 

“Uncle,” he greeted, with less enthusiasm than his wife had, a simple nod of his chin. Then the man’s gaze moved to Kagura and his eyes widened, a grimace marring his features and a snarl curling on his tongue. “ _ What happened _ ?”

 

She jumped when Fuujin’s hand came down hard on her shoulder, though the man’s eyes never left her face.

 

“This is my nephew, Susano-o, god of the sea and storms. And Susano-o,  _ this, _ ” he gave her a shake, she tried to shrug out of his grip, but found it firmer than she’d thought, “is  _ Kagura.  _ She’s come to bring back the wind gods.”

 

“The twins? My apologies, I hadn’t known they were gone.” His needling gaze finally leaving her face to glance up at Fuujin, he crossed his arms. “I’ve hardly seen them recently, you could even say I’ve forgotten what my dear siblings look like. Tell me, what happened that they’ve disappeared?”

 

“Well, you know your sister.” Fuujin’s laughter boomed and left her ears ringing, though his grip didn’t loosen. “She got into some trouble, your brother tried to help and he’s got himself trapped in… well, hell.”

 

“Ah, that’s why you’ve come,” Susano-o crinkled his nose and pulled his lips into a sneer.

 

“Yes, well, I’ve been telling her I’m not a monster, can’t send her there on her own, can I?”

 

“Hn,” Susano-o looked back to her, “and you, Kagura, you do this of your own accord?”

 

“Something like that,” she muttered, uncomfortable. Behind him, his wife still diligently combed her hair, unperturbed by the conversation.

 

Susano-o narrowed his eyes and gave her a long look.

 

"You're sure?"

 

Something like uncertainty hummed under her skin, unnerved by his piercing stare. She opened her mouth to respond, but Fuujin beat her to it.

 

“I am.”

 

Kagura snapped her mouth shut and turned to the god, finally shrugging out of his hold, meaning to berate him for answering on her behalf, but a stern glance from the corner of his eye held her back.

 

“Alright then,” Susano-o sniffed, “I can only offer a lifeline, nothing more.” He reached up to his nose, stuck two fingers into his left nostril and pulled. Kagura grimaced when he held out his hand, he displayed several strands of thick black hairs between his thumb and index finger. He looked up to her, she thought she heard a throaty chuckle, but his lips remained in a thin line.

 

“My father was the first to make the journey to the afterworld, an attempt to save his wife, Izanami,” he said, cupping his hand and sprinkling the hairs into his palm, “he failed, of course. When he returned he was covered in the filth of the dead.” He pressed his hands together, folding them in on eachother and squeezed for a long moment. “He washed himself in a river, the soot that ran from his left eye was born my sister, Amaterasu, from his right, my brother, Tsukuyomi. And from his nose―” he blew into the space between his hands, the sound of it howled like an angry wind, “―me.” 

 

A light formed between his palms, the hair he’d pulled grew, lashing like an angry beast in the wind in his hand. It grew, spiralled wildly, shooting into the sky and wrapping around itself until it formed a long braid, maybe ten feet long that fell into his hands. He let it fall loosely in his palms before he began to loop it around his arm and then held it out to her. Kagura blinked, her lip barely holding back a sneer.

 

“Oh, don’t look so disgusted,” he said, rolling his eyes, “I know what makes up that body of yours, maybe the hair from my nostrils will even purify it for you.”

 

Her lip pulled away from her teeth and she snarled, her fan open in her hand before she’d even blinked. To hell with these gods. Fuujin held out his arm to stop her.

 

“Susano-o,” his voice boomed, a warning. “When Shinatobe returns―”

 

“ _ If  _ she returns,” Susano-o raised a brow, and this time he did smile, a feral thing, but his eyes never left her face, “I look forward to it, it has been so long since I’ve seen my dear elder sister.”

 

Kagura fumed. She would succeed, if only to ask the goddess to take his head from his shoulders and see his shocked face. Would he die? Or was immortality different for the gods? It didn’t matter, she supposed, as Fuujin reached forward and took the length of rope from him. He turned to her, and then as if thinking better of it, he handed it off to the crane, who slung it around his neck without complaint.

 

“What will you do about Izanami?”

 

“Takahiko is going with her, he should be able to hide her from Izanami’s sight.”

 

“‘ _ Should?’ _ ” Kushinadahime spoke up for once, “she may have cursed us with death, but she has no lack of love for her children.” She looked up to Kagura and set her comb in her lap. “Come here.”

 

Kagura hesitated and glanced at Fuujin, who merely nodded his head once. She stepped forward and cleared the distance between the veranda and the platform where Kushinadahime knelt in one fluid leap. She knelt before her when the goddess bid with a pat of her fingers against the wood.

 

“Give me your hands.” 

 

Kagura obliged, holding her hands out between them as Kushinadahime leaned across the platform to reach down to the dirt, cupping a handful of damp earth in her palm. She sat up straight again, working the muck between her fingers until it became smooth like clay. She reached for Kagura’s outstretched hands, smearing it across her palms, the backs of her hands, working it into her skin. She almost pulled back at the feeling of the grit and slime of the clay, but Kushinadahime’s hands held firm.

 

“Izanami is queen of the dead, but she is also hell’s longest resident,” she said, as her cool fingers kneaded Kagura’s skin, “it will not kill her, but touching earth will turn her to rot. I doubt she’ll make that mistake more than once.” Kushinadahime took the last of it and ran three fingers across her forehead, and then two down both cheeks. Kagura closed her eyes as she smoothed the dirt across her face, leaving a pleasant warmth along her skin, like basking in the sun. 

 

“You may be the wind, but it is the earth that will protect you.” 

 

Kushinadahime smiled, her eyes crinkled as she leaned forward, her voice low. “And  _ when _ Shinatobe returns, maybe she’ll teach my dear husband a lesson or two.”

 

Kagura couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at her lips, maybe the princess wasn’t so bad after all. Done with her work, Kushinadahime leaned back, her spine going ramrod straight as she picked up her comb and set to work combing out her hair again. Kagura stood, and turned to look back at the men staring at them.

 

“Is that all?”

 

Fuujin’s grin grew impossibly wide as he looked to his nephew. “Well there is the matter of getting there.”

 

Susano-o sighed.

 

“In the land of fire, there’s a gate―”

 

“ _ No! _ ” She hadn’t meant to shriek so loudly, but even Kushinadahime stopped to look up at her for the outburst. Kagura coughed, cleared her throat. “No way, I’m not going through that damn thing.”

 

Fuujin slowly nodded, his eyebrows still impossibly high on his forehead, his eyes bugged out wide and a nervous smile tugging at his lips. He glanced at Susano-o.

 

“There is another way.”

* * *

 

 

Fuujin bid them farewell halfway, gave her a cheeky grin and wished her luck with a wave of his hand. His part was done, he'd said, nothing more he could do for her.

 

“I’ll meet you when you return, hopefully with my nephew in tow.”

 

“If you aren’t sending me to my grave, that is.”

 

“Don’t underestimate yourself,” he said, and reached out to ruffle her hair. She dropped her feather just enough to avoid it, which earned a hearty laugh. “You have a god’s blessing, after all.”

 

Kagura shook her head and waved him off, spinning her feather towards the east. Takahiko held still, propped up on an eddie until she nodded and he began to lead, leaving the jade hued god behind.

 

Without him the going was much slower, drifting on the gusts as they made their way east over the plains. She wasn’t rushing, but she couldn’t help but notice the way the crane’s head tilted her way anytime her pace slowed.

 

Whatever his problem with her was, she didn’t care to find out, so long as he didn’t leave her behind to die once they’d found his master. 

 

Ahead, fog loomed, and Kagura was beginning to get very sick of it. Even as they passed through the barrier it hid and landed on white marble steps that continued on endlessly in both directions. On either side of the staircase, two stone kugutsu guards held spears at the ready, soulless eyes watching them for any movement, the tips of their blades pointed straight at their throats. She’d always hated those fucking things.

 

“We’re here to ask a favor of your master, we mean no harm.” When he wanted to, the crane could sound downright dignified.

 

The puppets didn’t move for a long moment, completely still and their spears unwavering, until finally they snapped back to attention, the butt of their spears hit the ground with a solid  _ thwack!  _ and they returned to their post without so much as a second glance.

 

Takahiko didn’t hesitate, the second the guard’s eyes were off them he began to ascend the steps, hopping two at a time with his long spindly legs. Kagura huffed and followed him, eyeing the rows of kugutsu that stood stone still on either side. It seemed they walked for ever, the top of the steps hidden far above beyond the fog. After what seemed like forever and a day, she began to simply count the steps, finding the cracks in the marble or the places where the stone had warped under the weight of too many feet. She became so focused on her little game she almost tripped over her own feet when the crane abruptly stopped a step above her.

 

“Hey, what’s―” 

 

Kagura looked up, and she knew a voice rang out, saw lips moving, but couldn’t for the life of her hear what was said. Her ears rang and her thoughts turned to nothing but white noise as she stared, nearly choking on her own tongue, too shocked by hair so silver it was nearly pearl white, golden eyes that glowed in the sunlight, a blue moon, and fleece fur draped over a haughty shoulder― 

 

“I said,” a look of disdain that was all too familiar, “can I  _ help  _ you?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I’m back in my zone with this and having fun with it again, so look out for an update next week.


	12. II. Path of Darkness

**** “Are you deaf, girl?” the woman hissed, her chin held high and looking down her nose at them, “mute, maybe?”

 

Takahiko inclined his head at Kagura when she didn’t respond, frozen to the spot on the steps and staring. He made a clicking sound low in his long throat and took the final step up.

 

“We’ve come on behalf of the wind god, Fuujin,” he said, keeping his eyes averted, “we’ve come to have you open the path to hell."

 

“And what makes you think I can do that?”

 

Kagura swallowed and crossed her arms, found her voice. 

 

“We were told you have something called the meidou-seki, that can open the path directly to the underworld.” She’d wondered why that word had sounded so familiar, why the hair on the back of her neck had risen when Susano-o had said it.

 

The woman hummed and sat down on her dais, reclined onto the arm rest and began to toy with the black stone around her neck.

 

“Tell me, if I did have such a thing, why would I use it for  _ you _ ?”

 

“We’ve come on behalf of the gods, youkai, it would be in your favor to aid us.”

 

This time she did laugh, a giggle that betrayed her fanged grin.

 

“Don’t insult me, bird, I’ve no use for the  _ gods,  _ or their favors _ ,”  _ she tittered, “what would they offer me? I’ve everything I need.”

 

Kagura watched her, the lines across her cheeks prim and dainty and her red claws clean as they worked through her fur. The familiar set to her chin was starting to give her a severe sense of deja vu, her head ached with it but she held back her grimace.  _ If you want something done, do it yourself.  _ He’d told her that, once. And now, looking at a woman who was nearly his clone, she wondered at the mentality of stuck up dogs. No, there was nothing they could offer that would satisfy her.

 

“Everything you need doesn’t mean everything you want,” she said, “what would you want in exchange?”

 

The woman’s smirk widened, a fang poking out over her lip. 

 

“What is your purpose in going to yomi?”

 

The crane clicked. “We owe you no explanation, open the gate and you will be rewarded, youkai.”

 

She began to laugh, and had to cover her mouth with the back of her hand, though she made no move to rise from her chair. Kagura had the urge to smack the back of the damn crane’s head with her fan.

 

“Careful, bird, you have a strange way of asking for favors,” she reclined into her furs and placed her hand in her palm, her eyes sliding to Kagura. “You spit that word at me, yet your mistress is a youkai herself,” 

 

“I ain’t his ‘mistress’,” Kagura rolled her eyes and turned to the bird, “and you, shut the fuck up, would you? Go fly around or something.”

 

Takahiko eyed her, an infuriating tilt to his head, but he didn’t move until Kagura pulled her fan from her belt and sent a tornado no taller than her hip spinning towards his feet. He squawked and flapped his wings, leaving feathers fluttering in his wake when he took to the sky. He swirled above their heads for a moment, no doubt contemplating whether he could drop what he thought of her right on her head. Deals or no, she’d rip his feathers out one by one and his master could rot.

 

"What a rude little thing…" the woman hummed, head tipped back on her throne so she could follow Takahiko's flight while Kagura watched her in return, wondering if it was smart to even broach the question― 

 

"What is your name, girl?"

 

She bristled. “Kagura.”

 

“‘ _ Kagura’...?  _ A dance for the gods…” she said, more to herself than anything as her gaze never left the bird until he’d soared out of sight beyond the fog. There were several agonizing minutes of silence, so long that Kagura thought the woman had fallen asleep or forgotten she was there altogether until she finally spoke.

 

“Is that why you’re here with a god’s familiar? Have they got you answering their beck and call?” She fingered the beads around her neck. “Going to yomi is a fool’s errand.”

 

“I know.”

 

The woman raised her silver head and leveled Kagura with a dull stare. “Hn, so why go?”

 

“Something to do, ain’t it?” Kagura shrugged and tapped her fan against her chin.

 

“Boredom? What a dull life you must lead, if risking it is worth that much to you.”

 

“Why does it matter?”

 

“You’re the one looking to go, I would think you’d be a bit more open about your reasons, maybe a little more respectful―”

 

“I ain’t gonna’  _ beg, _ if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

 

“Ho? How admirable of you.” A smirk pulled at her cheeks and she stood, taking the few steps necessary for them to be within arms length of each other, their eyes level. Kagura stood her ground. “No, I find groveling so pitiful, it wouldn’t have gotten you very far.”

 

“So you’ll open it?”

 

The woman laughed. “When did I ever say that I could?”

 

Kagura took a deep breath, her mouth hardening into a line. It was too much of a coincidence to believe her. It had been Kohaku who’d told her, about Inuyasha taking the meidou from Sesshoumaru, how the hanyou had used it to destroy Naraku’s body, then had fallen into it himself. A barebones summary of what had happened during those months while she’d been asleep. A meidou, a meidou-seki. The dogs were involved, and now she’d been sent to some prim bitch’s estate for the very same and it was too much to think that the woman couldn’t. She wasn’t about to go asking Inuyasha.

 

“Look, I know that you can,” she said finally, “what would you want in return? The crane said you’d get favor with the gods, I can’t confirm that but I can offer you a favor of my own.”

 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, if I told you what I truly want you might think better of it.”

 

“Then what?”

 

“So anxious,” the woman’s smile widened, “you haven’t answered my question, so why should I answer yours?”

 

Kagura pursed her lips and raised her chin. It wasn’t like it was a secret.

 

“We’re going to resurrect a god.”

 

That did pique her interest. Her brows rose and a light flickered behind her eyes, and something like a cruel curiosity tugged at her lips as she gave Kagura one long once over. 

 

“Well then,” she cooed, stroking her fur, “it’s been tried before, you know.”

 

“I’m aware.”

 

“Were you the one who killed him?”

 

Kagura balked. “No.”

 

“Oh, that would’ve made it more interesting.” She sounded genuinely disappointed as she twirled a lock of her hair between her fingers, her gaze shifting to follow the play of light across the strands..

 

“I wasn’t lying when I said there was nothing I wanted, well, nothing  _ you _ could give me, anyway,” She said, her eyes flicked over her again, just slow enough to make Kagura itch before she turned around. The woman stopped just before her throne and turned to look over her shoulder with a sly grin. “You’ll have to let me think on it. Stay a while, won’t you? It’s been so long since I’ve had any decent company.”

 

The woman sat back down on her throne, smoothed out her fur and her robes and held her gaze straight ahead as she sucked her lip between her teeth and made a shrill whistling sound before leaning back.

 

“Sit.”

 

Kagura eyed her warily and sat beside her, keeping a distance between them on the long lounging throne. She left just enough space that she wouldn’t fall off the end of it and left her feet flat on the ground, her back rigid and her chin high, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She mimicked the woman, keeping her gaze straight ahead. Through the fog she thought she could see Takahiko circling.

 

A kugutsu appeared beside the woman’s elbow, and Kagura nearly jumped out of her skin. Goddamnit, she hated those things. The woman glanced at her from the corner of her eye and began to fiddle with the tray the puppet offered her, the soft tinkling of glass on glass before the thing disappeared just as quickly as it had come. The woman brandished a kiseru, the long pipe a dark lacquer that was nearly black and accented with gold, designs Kagura couldn’t quite recognize swirled along the metal.

 

“I take it you don’t like my guards.”

 

Kagura huffed. “I take it they have their uses.”

 

“Hn, sometimes.”

 

The woman lit her pipe and began to take long drags, the smoke curling out of her nostrils and hanging around them in a thick cloud, the air surrounding them too still to allow for the smoke to drift away. It made Kagura’s nose itch and her eyes sting, and she wondered how a dog, with their sensitives noses, could stomach something so rancid. Her fingers twiddled in her lap, and a soft breeze took it away. The woman turned her head.

 

“Quite an interesting ability you have, to control the wind.” 

 

Kagura glanced at her, but said nothing.

 

“I’ve seen someone  _ cut  _ the wind.” Kagura sucked in a breath. “But never master it like you seem to.”

 

It was on the tip of her tongue, the question, and she wondered if it would help her case or hinder it. She opened her mouth, and almost instantly regretted it, the way the acrid smoke settled along her teeth and tongue, but just then Takahiko landed before them, looking none too pleased.

 

“Welcome back, bird,” the woman said, blowing out sharply, a trail of smoke shooting from her nose, reminiscent of a dragon, “your mistress and I were just getting acquainted.”

 

Takahiko came to stand beside her, his eyes never leaving the woman’s face until he was leaning just over Kagura’s shoulder.

 

“ _ We don’t have time for this _ .”

 

Before Kagura could snap at him, the woman was on her feet.

 

“Shut up, you’re irritating.” The growl so disdainful, so different from the woman who’d just complimented her abilities. Kagura wanted to laugh. 

 

“I’ll tell you what I want in exchange, if only for the opportunity to see that one devoured,” she said, gesturing to the crane with her chin and her pipe held firm between her teeth. 

 

“So, what is it? You decided you want someone dead? Besides him, obviously,” Kagura teased, a brow raised as she stood.

 

“Hn, no, if I truly needed to rid myself of a nuisance, I’d do it myself. I’m not above that,” she said, with a pointed glare at the bird.

 

“So then?”

 

“A persimmon.”

 

Well, that wasn’t… “That’s it?”

 

“Don’t mistake me,” a fang poked out over her lip when she smiled, “I don’t mean any ordinary fruit. I mean for you to bring me one from yomi.”

 

“Eating the food of yomi will kill you.”

 

“Well, that’s for me to find out, isn’t it? If you don’t make it back at least I’ll be a little entertained.”

 

“Well, I hope we make it worth your while then,” Takahiko scoffed, indignant. Whatever the hell his problem was, Kagura supposed she could beat it from him later, all sorts of accidents were bound to happen in hell, after all.

 

The woman looked like she might change her mind, but then she looked up at Kagura and simply shook her head. She pulled the kiseru from her mouth to set it down on her throne, and reached for the heavy necklace that hung along her shoulders, pulled it off her head, clacking the beads together and held it before her face.

 

Ah. The meidouseki. She should have guessed it would be that obvious.

 

“Are you sure about this?” she asked with a fanged smirk, her tone more than a little mocking.

 

“As I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

 

The woman’s eyes crinkled in amusement, and then she looked away, her gaze focused on the stone, and something shifted. Where there had been no wind before, a sudden gust pushed at her back and her ears popped with the sudden change in pressure, and then the sky was opening, a black hole devouring everything around it, refracting light around its edges and growing until it’s shadow smothered them.

 

Kagura felt it, a tug on her heart, in her lungs, in her bones. It wanted her, wanted to consume her, she knew, but there was something there, beyond that darkness, warmth that drew her in even more than the pressure at her back. She took an unsteady step forward before the woman clearing her throat shook Kagura from her trance. Takahiko was already at the edge, staring and  waiting for her to follow impatiently, though his feathers were puffed up. Afraid, little bird? She wanted to mock him, but a shiver ran down her spine as the void called to her again.

 

“Thanks,” she said, without a look back. She stepped forward to join him, but a nagging thought had her turning back to look over her shoulder.

 

“Sesshoumaru…”

 

The woman inclined her head, an eyebrow raised.

 

“What of him?”

 

Kagura swallowed thickly. “What is he to you?”

 

The woman scoffed, a smirk pulling at her lips. 

 

“He’s my son.”

 

Kagura smoothed her features and stepped into the void.

 

* * *

 

 

Darkness loomed around them, an endless and all consuming blackness that threatened to swallow them whole. It destroyed everything it touched, the path crumbling behind them as they went, forcing them deeper into hell’s depths. If she looked close enough in that abyss, she thought she could see the glint of fangs, could hear the screams of unnamed horrors, hellhounds, those terrible flayed birds, and the unfortunate souls caught in their jaws being torn limb from limb. Any wrong step could mean death, or worse, an eternity of torment and― 

 

His mother. His fucking  _ mother _ ?! 

 

A sister, she could have guessed. Hell, a cousin, or even a wife, though that stung just a little for a reason she didn’t care to prod. A cousin-wife, maybe― 

 

But his damn  _ mother _ , she had not anticipated that. At least now she understood where he’d gotten the finer points of his attitude. Flattery and offerings had never worked for him, and he was just as quick to blatantly ignore something he deemed beneath him. His mother wasn’t any different, only that this time Kagura could offer a service the woman had actually wanted.

 

“Does anything even grow in hell?” 

 

Ahead, Takahiko slowed his rapid step only just enough to glance back at her, his white feathers a dwindling beacon in the darkness.

 

“They are not fruit as you would know them,” he said, his beak open though there was no movement to signify the annunciation. She wanted to ask what he meant, but the bird turned away when an agonized scream rang out in the abyss. A soul being torn apart or did the hellhounds mimic human sounds? She didn't care to ask.

 

"You know that youkai?" For all the empty space, his voice was painfully loud. Her ear itched.

 

"No, I knew her son."  _ Knew _ being the operative word.

 

"Best not to get involved with that lot." Behind them, the path continued to crumble, forcing them deeper into the depths of hell, as if they'd needed any coercion. 

 

"What's it to you?"

 

His pace slowed, and the sound that left him could almost be considered a sigh.

 

"Those dogs, as prim and proper as they may act, are descended from the very hellhounds Izanami birthed when she cursed the world." He fluffed his feathers when something squawked in the distance, a language Kagura didn't care to know, but his voice never wavered. "Nothing but a scourge who relish in violence and death, same as their ancestors. Savages, really.”

 

“ _ Savages _ ?” She stopped, staring at the back of his head with a furrowed brow. A heat settled low in her spine. That… wasn’t true. She’d met two and a half dogs in her short life, and not even the old bitch had displayed a thirst for cruelty. Well, not anymore than normal. “Where’d you learn that?”

 

“It’s the truth, you―” The crane flapped his wings as a howl sounded out, the water below churned and spit as the heads of several hounds leapt around them, thrashing and snarling, snapping their jaws at them in a fit of rage. Kagura cursed and flicked her fan open, leveling several blades of wind that tore their heads from their necks and left them to fall back to the rancid water with an impressive splash. The spray hit her nose and almost made her sneeze.

 

“They want us to continue,” Takahiko said, fluffing his feathers before he continued walking, “but now you understand what I mean.”

 

Kagura scoffed and quickened her pace to follow him, a snooty reply on the tip of her tongue, though she figured it wasn’t worth the energy to voice it. Instead she glared at the back of his head, a sneer on her lips and her arms crossed in front of her chest. All until the crane dropped several feathers in his wake.

 

“Oi, what the hell’s wrong with you, anyway?” She bent down to scoop up one of the plumes without slowing her pace. It was heavier than she’d anticipated, thick between her fingers, the vanes stiff and white, but there was something wrong, the shaft too thin and tinged with what looked like soot. An infection? He’d been losing them consistently… But the bird didn’t respond, didn’t even spare her a glance until she aimed the thing at the back of his head like a dart. It stuck in the feathers at his flank and he turned to stare at her.

 

“It’s due to Shinatsuhiko-sama’s absence.”

 

The words had a finality to them she didn’t care to pick at, so instead she let the silence smother them. The water below still raged, the path still crumbled behind them, the birds still cawed, and jaws still snapped at them from the abyss, but otherwise the way was calm and slow going. She’d wondered why his mother had seemed hesitant to let them go, the horrors of hell were nothing against her wind, it seemed, until the path abruptly stopped before them, a darkness so thick she thought she might choke on it.

 

“Once we step behind this darkness, there will be only one way out and only one chance to use it,” Takahiko said, his voice sounded muffled and far away, “you understand, don’t you?”

 

Kagura thought she heard the faint tinkle of laughter echoing in her ear, she gave one glance over her shoulder at the unseen voyeur. She huffed, shook her head. She brushed past the crane with heavy steps and her arms crossed in front of her chest, and with a sigh let herself be swallowed by the abyss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ope. I said I was back in the zone and would have this chapter up last week… so that was a lie.
> 
> Sessmom is so difficult to write given that we know next to nothing about her, and her only interaction was with Sesshoumaru. I can’t visualize her voice! Hopefully I did her justice ;(
> 
> Also, in Shinto hell is called “yomi” but in canon they use the word “mekai”, I can’t find a good source for what the distinction (whether one is shinto and another is buddhist or something like that) is so i’m trying to combine both inu-canon and shinto religion


	13. II. Hellfire

It started like a haze, clouded, as if something was stuck in her eyes, her mind trying to find  _ something  _ in the darkness to recognize. But the further they went, she realized that it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her at all.

 

“What the  _ hell― _ ” she only heard the irony once the word had left her lips, “is  _ that?” _

 

Takahiko clucked, his gaze stuck on the same point. The flaming ring hovering above them, it could’ve been miles away or directly overhead, without light the darkness made it hard to judge the distance or how massive it was. Despite the overbearing blackness, the abyss within that burning ring seemed all the darker, until something shifted and the ring disappeared beyond an even larger bulk.

 

“The guardian.”

 

She didn’t question more than that, supposed she would see it for herself soon enough. As they continued the ring grew, and a deep rumble reached her ears, shaking the pebbles beneath her feet and the air in her lungs. Kagura reached up a hand, steadying it against her breast, her heart pounded steadily against her ribs despite that thrumming in her bones.

 

The stench was the next thing to reach her, the stink of rot, of death and decay, so thick in the air she could taste it and she nearly gagged. She covered her face with her fan, a useless barrier against the stench, a consolation more than anything. 

 

The ring wavered, in and out of sight, until the figure that shadowed it came fully into focus. The guardian of the underworld, a massive, hulking beast, made of the same inky blackness as the rest of the void around them. Light refracted along its edges, as if it were made of glass, its skin damp and dripping something foul. The darkness couldn’t obscure the torn claws, infected and rotten, as it― 

 

“Is that…?”

 

A human. No, a corpse. Dangling slack jawed from the guardian’s grip. The body had no eyes, its skull pocketed with holes as if eaten by maggots, its flesh worn and gaunt, and even in the dim red light the skin was a mottled gray. 

 

“The guardian ensures the cycle of reincarnation,” Takahiko clucked beside her as the guardian lifted the corpse in the air for a moment, then promptly dropped it off to the side, “those that aren’t worthy, well… they remain here.”

 

And then she could see it, the darkness lifted just enough for her to make out what her eyes had struggled to recognize. Struggled to  _ understand. _

 

Corpses. Hundreds of thousands of bodies. Piled one on top of the other, thousands on top of thousands and left to decay beneath their own weight, crushed and groaning. Mountains of them, mountains of putrid, flayed flesh. Kagura grimaced and pulled her fan higher on her face, her blood moving through her veins at a glacial pace as her feet slowed to match it so that she could simply stare at the horror that lay before her.

 

Death had never bothered her much, corpses even less. A body was a body and a body was a tool. But this… this was…

 

“We shouldn’t linger here, the guardian isn’t likely to notice us, but if it does it may alert Izanami,” the bird warned, pushing past her, “or worse.”

 

Worse? She couldn’t imagine anything worse as she watched the bird walk to the edge of the path, the guardian ignorant and towering over them. Takahiko paused a moment and turned back to her.

 

“Best not to use your abilities too much, it will attract attention.”

 

And then he leapt from the path, his wings outstretched, as he glided down between the mountains of bodies and landed without a sound. He turned to look up at her, expectant.

 

Kagura sighed. The air was stagnant here, as dead as the bodies that surrounded her on all sides. There was no whisper, no breath to give her direction. She felt numb, as if her hearing had been stolen, everything a little muffled, stifled under that oppressive stink of death.

 

She could’ve sworn that the crane began to stomp his clawed feet.

 

With a grimace she jumped, let gravity take her down until she landed amongst the bodies. A skull cracked under her heel, accompanied by a pitiful moan, and the viscera squelched between her toes. A shiver ran up her spine, her teeth clacked together painfully, and she fought the urge to vomit.

 

* * *

How long had they been here? Impossible to tell given the constant darkness. Her feet ached and the muscles of her legs twitched with every step. She knew that the stink of decay had long since set into her clothes, into her hair, hell, she’d probably still be tasting it on her gums for weeks if they ever found their way out of that damned place.

 

The bodies stretched for miles, a never ending sea of rot. For most of them, their eyes had long since been eaten away, so at least she could hide from their stares, but it was the groaning that would drive her to madness. Despite the death that gripped them, they still moved, still could pull enough breath into their lungs to make that pitiful sound. It made her flesh pebble and her teeth chatter, and she tried her best to avoid the gore that coated the ground when they weren’t scrambling over the corpses themselves. Her robes were soiled, and she could feel the thick coating of slime on her legs, nearly to her knee; blood, pus, and who knew what else. She didn’t want to think about it too much.

 

The more they walked, the more her mind drifted, to another time, another place, when she’d been surrounded by living corpses. Naraku’s lairs had always been dark and damp, the stink of death, everything coated in the viscera of the youkai he devoured and molded into himself. She’d been born in that gore, but at least that had been for something. After her foray into betrayal she’d been trapped in the dungeon of Kagewaki’s castle for over a week, she’d seen the monstrosity first hand. That had been creation, had been making something new, but this… this place, nothing but fermenting bodies, nothing but thousands―hundreds of thousands―of years of rot left to stew, left to be crushed under its own weight.  

 

“Do you even know where you’re going?”

 

Ahead of her, Takahiko stopped and looked back over his shoulder, his foot solid on the emaciated chest of a corpse. “I can feel Shinatsuhiko-sama’s presence, he is not far, but…”

 

“But  _ what _ ?” She climbed to join him, and the body she’d stepped on shifted, she nearly slipped back down, but her heel caught and slid, with a sickening squelch into its open gut. Slimy intestines wrapped around her ankle and a growl bubbled in her throat as she fought to keep her balance with her hands clenched like claws. She wanted to scream. The taste of her own bile between her teeth was becoming all too common.

 

Takahiko ignored her distress, beady violet eyes placid as ever. “It’s different, it’s… warped…”

 

“Warped as in  _ dead _ ?” She finally joined him at the top of the pile, thankfully without further incident. “If he’s dead for good that means we can leave, right? I’m sick of this fucking place.”

 

“No, it felt this way before he fell. I had not felt it as keenly as I do now.”

 

She looked out over the horizon, or what could be considered it. Just more bodies. Kagura looked behind them, but couldn’t make out any distinctive feature to mark their progress, they’d left the guardian and the path behind what felt like months ago.

 

“How’d he wind up here, anyway? Fuujin didn’t say.”

 

“I do not know.” The crane started walking again, picking his way down the mountain.

 

“You―you don’t know?!” She followed him down, a little more careful about where she stepped. “I thought you were his familiar, how don’t you―”

 

“I was not there,” he hissed, like acid dripping from his beak, and she supposed that was the end of the conversation. She had no interest in prying, so she rolled her eyes and followed after him silently instead.

 

They continued, for days, weeks, maybe. The next rise as monotonous and putrid as the last. Until― 

 

She'd grown accustomed to the mountains of bodies, misshapen and messy, no rhyme or reason, but this was a completely new form of gruesome.

 

Some still had bits of flesh clinging to them, rib cages and pelvises, stacked on top of eachother and crafted into a wall twice her height, accented by skulls and femurs. Scorch marks flared against the wall of bones, and she didn’t want to ask exactly what could have caused them when her shock should be focused on the meticulous placement of skulls, the way they had been stacked so precisely to hold the enormous weight. She tentatively reached a hand up, hovering there between her and a black eyed face. The mountains they’d crossed were always loud, a steady hum beneath their feet, groaning the only noise the corpses could make, but this was silent. The souls the bones had housed no longer tied to a physical body, the cord snipped when their flesh had been split, torn away for the hard calcium beneath. 

 

“We cannot linger here.” 

 

She flinched at the sound of Takahiko’s voice. Kagura took one last look at the bones and turned to follow him.

 

“What is this?”

 

“Izanami has had thousands of years to build her kingdom,” he said, not looking back, “she is not one to sit idle.”

 

Kagura hummed, and supposed that if she wasn’t already on a mission, she would have resorted to something similar during her short stay here. 

 

They followed along the wall, as unyielding and eternal as the rest of hell, until an opening appeared in the wall, a great arch, made of what looked like vertebrae, strung together to make the bend. Takahiko leaned his long neck to peak around it, satisfied that it was clear he kept walking. Kagura went to follow, but stopped in her tracks when she saw what lay inside.

 

Her mind tried to make sense of it, the shape was familiar, but the color, the texture… was all wrong. 

 

A tree. That much she knew, a thick trunk that supported long branches reaching for the sky, leaves that hung still without a breeze to make them flutter. And at the tips of those branches, fat and heavy, round orbs that couldn’t be anything but fruit.

 

Her feet moved, stepping inside the bone laden courtyard. She heard Takahiko cluck something, most likely once he noticed that she’d stopped following.

 

“We can’t―”

 

“Is this what you meant?” She asked, walking until she was directly below the leaves. The fruit hung above her head, just beyond her reach.  _ Not fruit as you would know them _ . No, nothing like what she’d known. Her stomach felt like it had fallen to her toes. Her eyes darted back towards the wall. At least now she knew what had become of their flesh.

 

“I told you, she has had a lot of time,” Takahiko trilled, looking properly disgusted.

 

Anything to make it look like a home, she supposed. She took one step back and jumped.

 

Her hands closed around its mass, and she nearly gagged when her feet touched the ground again. It was larger than her own head, and she could feel the softness of it, how it gave under the pressure of her finger tips. The skin was slimy, slick on her skin. And she did all her best to ignore the face that looked back at her.

 

“Put it back,” Takahiko hissed.

 

Kagura scoffed. “I made a promise.” 

 

Bad enough being on  _ Sesshoumaru’s  _ bad side, she couldn’t imagine what his mother would be like. Though going back to the old dog’s palace seemed more trouble than it was worth, now that she knew the connection.

 

“To that dog? Who cares,” he shook his head, “leave it.”

 

“Why? Because you’re in such a hurry?” Kagura didn’t know why his words had her hackles rising. She chose looking indignant over her own common sense by slinging the fruit between her hip and her elbow. It squished against her side. “You keep saying we can’t stay, but all we’ve been doing is fucking walking!”

 

Takahiko clicked tiredly. “We must find Shinatsuhiko-sama―”

 

“How much father?”

 

“It shouldn’t be long,” he hissed, and Kagura wanted to scream.

 

“You don’t know where he is, do you?” 

 

Takahiko reared back, as if struck and his feathers puffed. “I  _ do  _ know, and maybe if you actually helped we would have found him already.”

 

“You just―you just said―” she was caught between a laugh and a snarl, but held onto her anger, “if I was able to find him, then what the fuck are you here for? You’re the one that lost him in the first place, aren’t you?”

 

His feathers shivered. “I did not  _ lose  _ him―”

 

“You don’t even know how he died!” 

 

“He is not dead!” 

 

“Whatever, keep telling yourself that,” she huffed, waving a hand at him, “and when we find him, and he’s  _ dead,  _ I’m getting the fuck out of here.”

 

She spared the bird one glance, but he had looked away, his neck contorted and looking all the more pitiful for it as he stared at his feet. Kagura turned on her heel and started to walk away, too tired of the bird and his attitude to truly start a fight. She’d already come all this way for  _ his  _ master, yet he couldn’t give her a straight answer on anything.

 

“...it’s your fault.”

 

She stopped. “What…?”

 

His head snapped up, “It’s  _ your fault!  _ It’s always  _ your fault!  _ If you _ ―!” _

 

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” She reared back and shot him an incredulous look, her lips pulled down into an outraged frown. She didn’t feel like trying to decipher the bird’s delirious yelling.

 

“If you hadn’t―” The bird’s voice died in his mouth, his gaze lifting to a space above her head, his beak open and flapping.

 

Kagura turned her head, following his eyes. Beyond the wall, for the first time since they’d been there, light and color, a bloody red smearing across the black of the sky and casting long shadows through the gaps in the bones. She could feel the warm breeze combing through her hair.

 

“ _ Fire _ …?” 

 

She snapped back to look at him, and opened her mouth to ask, but then he was suddenly flapping his wings and squawking.

 

“We cannot stay here―!”

 

He turned, those spindly legs stomping against the ground as he tried to run back towards the arch. She followed, a slower pace, but a quickness to her step as she tried to reason why the bird looked terrified. He passed through the arch and stopped so suddenly she nearly crashed into him. An insult leapt to the tip of her tongue, but didn’t get a chance to pronounce itself due to a new voice.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

She jumped, spun to find the source of the voice, dropping the fruit in the process. It splattered in the dirt near her feet, spraying viscera on her calves in its wake. 

 

A boy, no taller than her hip, though she supposed that “boy” may not be the right word to describe him. He looked no worse for wear than the corpses surrounding them, skin gaunt and gray, robes tattered and covered in filth, his hair matted and sticking from his head at odd angles. The rot wouldn’t have bothered her so much if not for the flames that had replaced his eye sockets.

 

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said, his voice cracking like a broken bone.

 

She opened her mouth, but Takahiko’s extended wing silenced her, he gave her a look from the corner of his eye. “Do not go near him.”

 

“Are you here to stay?” The boy’s voice was hopeful, his hands clasped in front of his belly and a small smile pulled at his cheeks. Without pupils, it was hard to tell who exactly he was looking at.

 

“Kagutsuchi,” Takahiko cleared his throat, “where is your mother?”

 

“Mama’s sleepin’.” He took a step forward, and Takahiko answered it with a step back. Kagura didn’t move.

 

“Are you staying?” The boy asked again.

 

“We cannot.” The bird emphasized this with a well placed stomp on her foot, and Kagura would have cursed him if not for the terror that flashed across his eyes. She nodded once, and turned to slip back into the courtyard, Takahiko stalking along on her heels. The boy cocked his head to the side, watching them go.

 

“When we are far enough, we will have to go over the wall,” the bird hissed in her ear, once the boy was out of sight. A chill ran down her spine.

 

“Why are you so worried? Kushinadahime said―”

 

“Her blessing was for Izanami, not  _ him.”  _  Takahiko turned away, his feet slapping a rapid beat against the ground as they passed the flesh tree; and she supposed he was right when the wall they trailed along suddenly became very hot.

 

She jumped away as the stacked femurs snapped, rumbled in unison against the heat, the integrity of the wall split, sending bone splinters falling like ash in front of her face as the rest of it came down like a landslide. The debris fell between she and the bird, a smoking, molten mess, that had her choking back tears as it stung her eyes. She shielded her face with her sleeve as the boy stepped through the wreckage.

 

“Don’t go,” he said, a plea, a finger poking at his mouth.

 

Takahiko’s feathers fluffed unnaturally large in the smoke. “Kagutsuchi,” despite his distress, his voice was eerily calm, a soothing lilt, “we have business to attend to above, our time will come and we will join you here, but we cannot stay now.”

 

The boy seemed to think about this, his brow furrowing. He stepped through his makeshift gate, the burnt bones cracked under his weight. Close as he was, she noticed the jagged line running across his throat, the flesh puckered around the wound. She leaned away when he approached her, her mouth forming a hard line and her eyes impossibly wide as he reached out and took her hand in his own.

 

“Mama will be happy if you stay.”

 

She wanted to shake him off, his heat was beginning to seep into her clothes, almost hot enough to burn, and she desperately wanted away from him. 

 

“Sorry, kid, no can do. Got things to do.” She tried to give him a gentle shake, but the action only made him grip tighter. Her fingers curled around his, futilely trying to pry them off. If he looked up at her, she couldn’t tell for the flames of his eyes, but the heat of his hand increased and she hissed as it burned her skin. 

 

“Let go!” she shrieked. 

 

“You can’t leave!” he whined, grabbing her hand with both of his. He stared up at her, the fire of his eyes erupting to engulf nearly his whole face. The flames worked their way between her fingers, singeing her skin. She clenched her teeth to bite back a scream, Takahiko was yelling something, but she had enough sense of mind to keep hold of Kagutsuchi’s hands, to force enough wind between them to peel his fingers off.

 

Kagura stumbled back, wringing out her burned hand as they boy stared at her, his lip quivering. The flames of his eyes grew, licking along the flesh of his skull until his head was engulfed in the blaze. The fires gleamed, white hot, and Kagura felt the heat of it on her cheeks; the light strung harsh shadows along the wall and the tree, the bones a stark white in the darkness.

 

“You can’t.” He said it so softly, she thought he might sob. 

 

Takahiko stomped his feet in the shadows behind him, obscured by the smoke of burning bones. She couldn’t hear him past the crackling of the boy’s fire, not when he suddenly let out a roar, the fire pulsing with the rage in it.

 

"Father did this! And he  _ left us!"  _ The flames grew as the boy's yell transformed into a keening screech. "You can't leave us, too!  _ You can't!!" _

 

Kagura scrambled backwards, struggled to just get  _ away  _ from that blistering heat and the boy's fury. She could hardly breath through the stink of burning flesh. She covered her nose, and tried to bring in a wind to chase away the smoke, but it only fanned the flames.

 

The boy threw his head back, took a deep breath, and  _ screamed. _

 

**_"Mama!!"_ **

 

Something grabbed her by the collar of her robes, and when she looked up it was Takahiko, the fabric gripped tight between his clawed toes. His wings spread wide as he lifted them over the wall. He struggled with her weight, and she was too stunned to reach for her feather, her eyes stuck on the boy and the growing fire, the way it licked up the trunk of the flesh tree; she could’ve sworn she heard it scream, the flesh searing in the heat.

 

There came a rumble, and she had to turn her head to see the mountains of corpses off in the distance, the sharp angles of what could only be more makeshift buildings, pulsing, a wave running through them as something moved. Beneath them, the mountain grew, it― 

 

_ Izanami. _

 

She knew it as the woman stood, knew it in the marrow of her bones. The goddess of death, queen of hell, a giantess in her own right. Even with a maggot eaten face and tattered robes, thin hair matted to her skull. She towered above her subjects, seeing despite empty eye sockets. Burnt and cracked flesh lined her cheek, black as the skin pulled away from her gums, revealing teeth in an eternal snarl. And in those dark sunken eyes, irises red as blood.

 

The breath left Kagura's lungs, too stunned by the goddess that she hadn't noticed the fireball headed straight for them. Takahiko narrowly dodged, but the momentum had them spiraling out of the sky until Kagura hit the ground and rolled. 

 

Takahiko was only a second behind her, though a little more graceful as his wings spread out to brace against the fall. Kagura lifted her head, her eyes stuck on Izanami's gaunt face towering over them and getting closer by the second.

 

A three toed foot collided with her shoulder, forced her to her feet, and Takahiko's face was suddenly inches from her own.

 

" _ Run!!" _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized halfway thru writing this that the anime’s depiction of hell is different from RT’s, oh well, final act is trash but at least that episode had slightly better visuals.
> 
>  
> 
> I may or may not be posting the next chapter this weekend, if only cause i’m real excited because guess who’s finally joining the story


	14. II. Dead Man Walking

From the things he’d been told, he’d always considered himself the smart one.

 

Unquestioningly obedient, quick and clever, never stepping out of line yet always one step ahead.

 

He’d fooled himself into thinking it would work, convinced himself things would turn out alright (well, for him); though he’d always known there’d never been a plan beyond. There was no future, only staving off the inevitable, keeping the tide at bay when there was a tsunami just beyond the shore. 

 

So, he’d known, but he’d done his duty. He wasn’t  _ stupid.  _ Wasn’t that much of a fucking idiot to get delusional about where he stood or what his fate would be. A slightly longer, if not tedious life, was better than a dragged out and painful death. And oh, it would’ve been painful, of that much he was sure.  _ He  _ never did anything by half measures when it came to suffering.

 

He’d lost his arm, but that was fine, could be accounted for. The sword was the next thing to go, it’s weight an unpleasant reminder between his shoulder blades. He guessed it was karma, he deserved nothing if not this. An eternity in this fucking place when he’d thought that he would simply fade from existence, his consciousness melding into the wind or back into the thing that had spawned him. Maybe that would have been better, at least better than… better than  _ this. _

 

Hell. Yomi. Mekai. The underworld. All words for one thing. And well…

 

Hell was  _ hell. _

 

It stank, it was either too hot, or too cold, depending on where he was. Always so dark that he figured he’d go blind if he hadn’t already. Corpses were always in his line of sight. Death and decay, death and decay, didn’t whoever ran that place ever get sick of it?

 

He’d kept the gourd at his hip, a small consolation for when he felt truly desperate, something to hold onto and drink from, no matter that it meant nothing, only as long as he wanted to believe that it did. Enough belief to stave off his hunger and that ever present thirst. His furisode and vest were gone, the robe’s sleeves had been mired in the muck of rotten corpses within the first few minutes of him being here. He knew he stank of death, he didn’t need to drag the evidence from an empty sleeve. 

 

His socks and tabi stayed, only because he didn’t want to think about how the slime would feel directly on his skin or between his toes.

 

He’d thought that he hadn’t had any regrets when he’d been trapped here. He’d thought that he’d done his due diligence, his duty, and that this was the ultimate outcome, what he’d deserved. But the longer he sat, trapped between the groaning bodies, the more he realized that that simply wasn’t true.

 

He could’ve done so much. What exactly? Didn’t matter. But he could have! Could have ditched that son of a bitch long before he’d died and at least lived a  _ little. _

 

It would’ve led to the same damn thing, but at least he would’ve had something fond to look back on.

 

Instead, here he was, smelling like death and looking the worse for it, slowly going out of his mind. He wondered how long it would take before he started to rot, if eventually he’d be just like all the rest, nothing but a mass of flesh and bone, and able to do nothing but groan.

 

He sighed. His face was getting hot, which meant nothing good. How long had he been sitting here? He stretched his legs and got to his feet, his knees cracking under the movement. He carefully stepped over the bodies, their moans following him all the way until he stood near the top of the mountain.

 

_ Fuck.  _ Not far, the glow of a raging fire. That little spitfire brat. Thankfully his mother was nowhere in sight. He’d been lucky enough to avoid them for this long, he had no intention of messing up that record.

 

He leapt from his perch, landed softly just below, and would have made a break for it, if not for a strange sound.

 

Not a moan, or a groan, or even that deep rumbling that meant that massive hulking beast was near. No, this was― 

 

“ _ Fuck! _ ” A voice. Harsh and angry and hoarse. Accompanied by labored breathing and the sound of feet slapping against the ground. He froze, unsure, his feet stuck to the ground in the valley between mountains, and he waited.

 

She rounded the corner and nearly fell, her own momentum taking her feet farther than the rest of her and tripping her up over a lone arm. He thought she would, but just as quickly she righted herself, kept going at a dead sprint until she looked up and―well, this time she nearly did keel over. Her arms wheeled as she skidded to a stop a few feet away and stared at him.

 

Chest heaving, cheeks flushed from exertion, crimson eyes so red they reflected the glow of the fire behind her like a beacon, glowing in the darkness. A youkai. He should have been unnerved by eyes like that. But was that sweat on her brow…?

 

“You…” His voice cracked. When had he last used it? “...’re alive.”

 

She flinched, those eyes darting back and forth and finally landing on his face. She looked terrified, her mouth set in a hard line, brows furrowed together and the tremble in her limbs. There was a fan in her right hand, open wide just below her hip. Her fingers gripped it tight, her knuckles a stark white, nearly the same as the cadavers they stood on.

 

He took an involuntary step forward and she flinched, her foot slid back and she sank her hips just a little, her fan coming up behind her. He wondered just what she planned to do with it.

 

"Who're  _ you?" _

 

It had been so long since he'd spoken to anyone, the brat didn't count, and now he got the chance and… she was damn rude, is what.

 

He blinked stupidly.

 

"I―"

 

A screech sounded around them, and even the bodies shivered in fear, the mountains quaking with an unnatural whine. They both jumped, and the woman cursed. 

 

“Are they after you _?” _

 

She glared at him, but her stance relaxed just a little, her lips pursed as she gave him one long once over. There was a rumble, and he could smell the stink of burning flesh now. The boy wasn’t far then.

 

“What did you  _ do? _ ”

 

She scoffed and shook her head. “I didn’t  _ do  _ anything,” she spat. She snapped her fan shut and then she was walking again, brushing past him, picking up speed. Oh no, he was not about to let this get away from him.

 

He stepped forward and grabbed her arm with the one he had left, just above the elbow.  _ Warm.  _ Blood pounding just beneath the skin. She rounded on him, a snarl on her face and a hiss between her teeth. 

 

“Let go.” 

 

She shoved him with her free hand, quick enough that he stumbled back, but still slow enough that he caught a glimpse of the burnt skin of her hand. “Don’t touch me.”

 

“Looks like somebody’s been playing with fire,” he hummed.

 

She grimaced, cradled her injured limb against her chest, looked like she had something to say, but then shook her head and kept walking at a brisk pace.

 

He followed.

 

Every few steps she would glance back at him over her shoulder, a scowl pulling at her lips. The fire and rumbling were fading off into the distance, a good thing, mother and son had lost the trail then. That or, hopefully, given up on it. The woman must’ve noticed it, too, as her pace slowed and she began to look to the sky with a much calmer eye.

 

“Why are you following me?” 

 

“Better question: how’d you get here?”

 

She scoffed. “What’s it matter to you?”

 

“Let’s just say you’re a bit more  _ lively _ than anyone else I’ve met here,” he emphasized this by kicking a head that lay in his path, “and with the way you’re walking, I’m willing to bet you have a way out.”

 

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “I might.”

 

“Then that’s why I’m following you.”

 

“What good is it gonna’ do you?” she snorted, “my ticket out is for the living only, sorry.”

 

“Well, then good thing―” 

 

_ Fire!  _ Shooting over their heads and singeing the ends of his hair. They both ducked, trying to avoid the flames.

 

“Mama! I found them!” That fucking brat! And his mother’s footsteps were already rumbling in the distance, each step a vibration that shook his very bones. He looked back, and the woman was already sprinting ahead of him.

 

“ _ Oi! _ ” He kicked his legs into motion, achy from months of disuse, catching up and sweeping past her with ease and earning him an indignant screech. 

 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

 

“Outrunning  _ you! _ ” It wouldn’t matter if she had a way out if he was trapped anyway. “Do try to keep up!”

 

She snarled, and it was only seconds later that he realized he couldn’t hear the sound of her footsteps anymore. He slowed just enough to throw a glance over his shoulder, to see her a few steps behind and standing there still as death as the boy crested the mountain before her.  _ Idiot!  _ But if that was how she wanted to truly die, then fine by him, he could take his chances trying to find her way out on his own.

 

He scrambled over a pile of corpses and ducked down, using them as a shield for whatever would come, curious to watch what the boy would do once he’d gotten her.

 

Flames had engulfed the mountain he stood on, and Izanami’s footsteps still shook the ground, but the woman squared her shoulders and opened her fan, held her arm out straight to the side, and his morbid curiosity was the only thing that kept his eyes trained on her as the boy descended the bodies, and― 

 

She swung, tornadoes peeling off the edge of her fan fast enough to douse the boy’s flames and send him tumbling down the other side of the mountain, corpses rolling in his wake. 

 

Hn, that might come in handy.

 

He was on his feet and running before she had time to turn and his fist closed around the collar of her robe, she yelped but didn’t struggle as he shoved her in front of him.

 

“That won’t keep him down for long!”

 

If she had any complaints she kept them to herself as they raced past eyeless bodies, both huffing and gasping as their feet slapped the ground, trying to find the path of least resistance amongst the viscera laden ground. 

 

A tremor shook them both, and he could feel the heat at his back, that red glow seeping into the corners of his eyes. He dared a glance back, two glowing red eyes sparkling in the darkness above them, and his foot caught on an outstretched leg. He veered forward and had to spin in order to keep himself from falling, and when he raised his head, she was rounding a corner in front of him.

 

“Don’t fall behind, idiot!” Her warning was followed by frantic laughter, shock and fear and adrenaline all rolled in one.

 

“Don’t worry about me,” he called back, dodging the line of fire that licked at his heels. “Not missing my chance out of here.”

 

“It ain’t like it matters since you’re  _ dead! _ ” 

 

A giant fist came down before her, splattering gore in its wake. The woman backpedaled, and they nearly collided when she darted back towards him. He lost his balance, but her fist caught the fabric of his shoulder, his ears popped, his breath caught in his throat, and suddenly they were airborne, speeding past Izanami’s head and off into the darkness with the wind whipping at their faces.

 

Oh, he’d definitely missed this.

 

Fire shot at them, cracking and smoking and searing the air around them, enough to disrupt her control and knock them from her feather.

 

“You know I’m still alive!” he yelled above the din, and they both went crashing down―thankfully―in the dirt. They rolled, but he was the first one back on his feet, in a low crouch to not give them away. Beside him, she fisted her hands in the dirt and propped herself up, her shoulders heaving; her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed as she gave him an odd look.

 

"What's―your name?" She huffed, her breath coming out in heavy gasps.

 

He had to take a moment to catch his own breath, and offered her his hand.

 

"Byakuya." He smiled. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all. "A pleasure."

 


	15. II. Mother

Unfortunate, but not the end of the world.

 

She had suspected that he wasn’t this Shinatsuhiko they’d been looking for. His face had been gaunt, pale, darkness under his eyes, deep lines running from his forehead to his chin, like cracked clay. His entire left shoulder and arm completely gone, his hair a rat’s nest, and filth clinging to his clothes. Suffice to say, Kagura didn’t feel guilty for assuming he was dead. A youkai, which explained how he'd survived so long, though she didn't really have the time to ask him how he'd gotten himself stuck here. Then again that didn’t much matter in the face of the giant goddess and her flaming son chasing after them. Where the fuck was Takahiko?

 

“So what’s the big plan?”

 

She took a second to glance at Byakuya―her head ached a little when she really looked at his face and she had to blink against the fog behind her eyes―still keeping pace with her. Not who she was looking for, but he might come in handy if worse came to worse.

 

“I came here with someone,” she rasped, trying to keep her voice steady, “a bird, we were separated when that brat burned me.”

 

“A bird?”

 

“A white crane,” she clarified.

 

“Easy enough.” He stopped and she almost snapped at him to keep moving, but he wasn’t looking at her, instead his eyes were off towards the sky, his left eyed especially opened wide―

 

It popped from its socket, sprouted wings, and  _ flew away. _

 

Kagura nearly lost her step.

 

“What?” he asked, when he finally noticed her stare, his left eye socket gaping, “I can find your friend faster this way.”

 

She grimaced, but all the disgust she could muster had been tapped dry when she'd gotten here. Better to worry about it later.

 

Another shriek behind them, fire just over the next mound of corpses, and Byakuya's hand closed around her wrist, yanking her off course and nearly dragging her behind him when she wasn't so quick on the change. She would have cursed him, but he let go and made a gesture, one she couldn't recognize, and then suddenly she was looking at herself running beside them. Her voice caught in her throat, but the doppelganger ignored her in favor of sprinting behind Byakuya's shadow, and she hoped it was artistic license that had the copy looking so worse for wear. 

 

The copies peeled off from them, false footsteps echoing, dashing into the darkness and into a valley of bodies. 

 

"What the hell was that?" She gasped, once the fire had stopped licking at their heels.

 

Byakuya gave her a coy smile over his shoulder. "How do you think I've been getting away from them all this time? Luck?"

 

"Why didn't you do it  _ sooner?!" _

 

"Because if you didn't have a way out, then I only needed  _ you _ to get them off my trail."

 

"Oh,  _ thanks."  _ Kagura rolled her eyes and shook her head, and they kept running; Kagura glad to have left the goddess and her son far behind them and Byakuya chuckling to himself.

 

She watched the back of his head, the matted ponytail bobbing as much as it could. Maybe not a god, but he'd helped her, and if getting out of here meant giving him a ride, that was fine. That wind god could rot, she wasn't staying a second longer than she needed to.

 

Takahiko could stay behind, too, leave him to look for his master on his own. So long as he left her the lifeline.

 

"Found him."

 

This time it was she taken by surprise when Byakuya pulled an origami crane between two fingers, it sprung to life from his fingertips, floating there before them until he lept lightly onto its back. He turned to look at her.

 

"Coming?"

 

She blinked. "I'll make my own way," she said, her feather already in hand. The origami crane looked uncomfortable, too many sharp angles that would poke and prod. Byakuya shrugged.

 

“Keep up then.”

 

They flew low, between the valleys of bodies. His illusion wouldn’t mean much if mother or son happened to look up over the horizon and spot them. She entertained the urge to glance behind her everytime it piqued her, the fires still glowed in the distance, bloody red against the black sky, and it may have been a trick of the light but she thought she saw Izanami’s shadow flickering in the light. The goddess couldn’t touch her, but it wouldn’t make a difference if that son of hers burnt her down to ashes. Then again, returning to the wind even as ash might be better than left as one of the walking dead.

 

“That’s him, isn’t it?” 

 

Kagura looked up to where Byakuya indicated. Ahead, Takahiko flapped his wings and stomped his feet, feathers falling around him as he squawked at Byakuya’s floating eye. She scoffed, besides the bald patch, the annoying bastard didn’t look any messier than he had when they’d first gotten there. She sped past Byakuya and hit the ground in the space between the bird and the winged eye. Takahiko reared back, head spinning as his eyes met hers and fell on Byakuya when he landed beside her, his eye returning to its rightful place.

 

“You―”

 

She didn’t let him finish, she grabbed for him, for the rope slung around his neck.

 

“I don’t care anymore, you can stay here and keep looking for your fucking god,” he struggled a bit, and she had to grab him by the throat to keep him still as she unwound the rope, “but I’m getting the fuck out of here.”

 

“We need to―”

 

“Shut up!” she snarled, “I don’t want to hear anymore ‘we need’ or ‘we have to’ bullshit!” Her hand still ached, the burnt skin cracking as she held the lifeline and let it spill from her hands, coiling on the ground at her feet. She tossed a thumb over her shoulder at Byakuya. “That one’s coming, too, I guess.”

 

Takahiko’s beak flapped, and then he nodded slowly, his eyes still fixed on Byakuya. “No, of course. Of course.” Then he lowered his eyes to the ground. “My name is Takahiko.”

 

The man behind her took the opportunity to introduce himself with an abrupt wave and a forced smile. “Nice to meet you. Now how do we get out of here? Forgive me, I’m just a little sick of this damned place.”

 

Takahiko’s eyes darted back and forth between them both, then up at the sky. 

 

“Throw the rope up, it will find its own way back to our world.”

 

Kagura gave him an incredulous stare, and made eye contact with Byakuya briefly. He simply shrugged with his one intact shoulder. With a scoff Kagura shook her head and swung the rope around her arm in a loop and then let go. It lashed, like an angry snake, so violently it fell from her hands, one end spearing into the dirt at her feet, making her jump to avoid bludgeoning her toes, while the other end spiraled into the sky, disappearing into the darkness just above their heads. It snapped taut at an angle, ramrod straight in the ground.

 

“Is this safe?” Byakuya chimed in, idly flicking the braid with his middle finger.

 

“So long as you do not let go, you will be able to climb out of hell, if you fall, you will not be able to find it again by flying,” Takahiko already had one clawed foot wrapped around the rope, watching them expectantly. Byakuya looked unconvinced, his one hand still hovering in the air between them.

 

“You make it sound―”

 

A tremor shook the ground, rolling beneath their feet, and then suddenly everything went still, as if all the air had been sucked from them, even the corpses at their feet silent. 

 

“She knows what has happened,” Takahiko hissed, “Go!”

 

Byakuya was the first, scrambling to grab hold of the line and shimmy up it, hindered by his one handed grip and needing to cling to it mostly by his ankles, slinking up the length of it like a slug. Takahiko made an easier go of it, simply walking up the rope as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

 

Kagura chanced a glance behind them, where the flames had grown to take over the sky. Ash had begun to fall near them, carried by stagnant winds, accompanied by the stench of burnt flesh. She would be more than glad to be free of this dreadful place. She took a step towards the line.

 

And found that she couldn’t move.

 

She looked down at the bony hand that had wrapped around her ankle. Her brow furrowed, and she took a firmer step, trying to dislodge it, but it wouldn’t budge, the fingers curled around her leg like a brace. A chill ran like an electric shock under her skin, settling in the tips of her fingers with an unpleasant buzz. 

 

“ _...cannot…! … Come back…!” _

 

Izanami’s rumbling footsteps shook the ground as her shadow appeared, silhouetted by the furious light of the fire. Her voice, carried on the wind and echoing in the mouths of the bodies around her, sounded too strained, high pitched and raspy like a sword against stone, as if there were sparks flying from her throat.

 

A shiver running down her spine, Kagura kicked at the hand clutching her leg until it finally dislodged. When she looked up, Byakuya and Takahiko had already vanished into the darkness above, and she would have cursed them for leaving her behind if the hem of her robe hadn’t caught on something again.

 

A snarl on the tip of her tongue, she looked down, expecting another errant limb or bone fragment to be snagged in the fabric, but― 

 

Another hand, fist tight and curled into the linen, and one lone eye, staring up at her.

 

... _ Alive? _

 

A scream tore itself from her throat, and her heel came down on the corpse’s head with a sickening crack as its’ skull caved in, the eye popping in its socket, but it  _ did not let go. _

 

Izanami’s footsteps grew louder, deafening along with the blood pounding in her ears, and the heat of Kagutsuchi’s fire kissed her skin as Kagura ripped her fan from her belt―several not so precise wind blades severing hand from wrist and wrist from arm, arm from shoulder, until the fingers fell from her clothes.  

 

_ Get up. Up and away.  _ She just had to climb.

 

She stumbled to the lifeline, trying to dodge groping hands as they pawed at the ground, reaching for her. Her hand closed around the braid, but before she could pull herself up, there were more, bony fingers digging into her skin, tearing at her robes and dragging her down into the dirt. She thrashed, the air around her thrumming, trying to force the hands off if only she could generate enough pressure. Wind blades flew wildly, slicing rancid flesh and severing bones; the only direction  _ away  _ from her one chance out, even in her panic clear headed enough to avoid cutting the cord.

 

The back of her neck was too hot, and even as she struggled against the hands that held her, a small voice in the back of her head told her that it was too quiet.

 

Kagura stopped moving.

 

Her heart screamed and her lungs ached with the need to pull in air, her chest heaving. But the hands loosened, the divets they’d dug into her flesh still painful, but the fingers retreated, leaving her on her knees in the dirt, futilely trying to catch her breath and calm her raging heart.

 

A footstep crunching in the dirt and her head snapped up.

 

The boy, Kagutsuchi, stood not ten feet from her, flames still dancing around his head. And above… 

 

“ _ …n―… again…I―” _

 

Blazing crimson eyes stared at her, no flesh to line the sockets, and the skin of her cheek black and burnt, her lips pulled back in an eternal snarl as the skin had burnt away. The massive goddess stared at her, hunched forward, her hair falling around her like a landslide. Kagura had the sudden thought that the goddess was actually quite small.

 

Izanami moved, a hand coming to hover between them, longer than Kagura was tall, burnt black just like her face. Kagura’s eyes went wide as Izanami reached for her― 

 

“No,  _ don’t _ ―!” 

 

The tip of her finger made contact with Kagura’s cheek, a ghost of a caress, and was gone just as quickly as Izanami  _ screamed. _

 

Head splitting shrieks of agony as the flesh of her hand began to fall away, what wasn’t burnt turned a sickly shade of green, pus leaking from the exposed skin as it shriveled into dust. Izanami gripped her arm, falling back as the bones began to splinter, the ligaments going black until the joint failed and her hand fell apart.

 

Kagura scrambled backwards as Izanami fell, the ground quaking as her knees hit the ground. Kagura grit her teeth against the sound, even as goosebumps erupted along her skin; she had to clamp her hands over her ears, futilely, as that high pitched screeching still penetrated her skull. 

 

The boy yelled for his mother, fire erupting around him in a wide arc. Izanami, too preoccupied with her rotted hand, could only curl in on herself, clutching the injured limb to her chest and her forehead nearly touching the ground.

 

“You hurt her!” Kagutsuchi yelled, hardly audibly over his mother’s dwindling shrieks, “how could you?!”

 

Kagura had no answer, her breath caught in her lungs and her mouth flapping open. Izanami’s screaming was quickly fading, replaced by whimpers and moans. The boy was looking at her, fire in his eyes and lashing from his hands that had curled into fists. Izanami choked, head hanging between her knees, her voice a sob:

 

“... _ please…” _

 

Kagutsuchi leapt from his perch near Izanami’s knee, his footfalls heavy even for someone of his size. Kagura scrambled to her feet, she just needed to get up, just needed  _ to climb _ ―! Where was…?

 

She grabbed hold of the rope, just as the corpses came back to life, whether to please their mistress or under her orders, Kagura couldn’t tell, Izanami still wallowing in her pain in the dirt. They grabbed at her robes and dragged her back down, they wrenched her arm painfully, causing her to lose her grip on her fan as her hand was crushed under the weight of them.

 

She could taste the smoke in the air, heavy and thick and suffocating as the bodies that held her were scorched, ignorant to their predicament as the boy got closer. Their flesh burned, the stink of it burning her eyes and her skin turning pink under the heat. She gasped for air and the smoke filled her lungs causing her to choke and spittle to dribble down her chin. She thrashed, her muscles aching with the lack of oxygen, but the hands held firm as she tried to pry them off. Disgusting, maggot filled and stricken with rigor mortis, gaunt flesh ready to burst, nothing but the barest conscience clinging to empty bodies― 

 

Her fingers found the goddess' fan, still slung in her obi.

 

_ A body is a tool.  _

 

“I will not―” her throat burned, “―die  _ here!” _

 

The fan opened, and she could feel them, every empty eye socket and distended gut, every bone, every tooth, every ounce of air that filled rotten lungs. They would be hers. Hundreds of thousands of corpses at her beck and call. 

 

She would make them dance.

 

The fingers gripping her arm loosened, and the corpses hissed, still conscious as she wielded them, no longer obedient to their queen. She raised the fan, open wide, above her head, and they struggled to stand, awaiting their new orders.

 

Izanami noticed it first, her whimpers quieting as her head snapped up.

 

_ "...No…!" _

 

Kagutsuchi froze, even his flames flickered, his anger fading to confusion as his head turned this way and that as he watched the bodies stand under Kagura’s power.

 

She only needed to keep him back, only needed to buy herself enough time. She turned her horde on the boy, trying to stifle his fire with dead flesh. What was already dead wouldn’t die again, but at least it would hold him down long enough. Izanami watched her, braced on her knees and her one good hand.

 

“.. _.no… can’t… not― _ ”

 

Flames shot into the sky, throwing the bodies into the air in an explosion of such extremes that Kagura barely had the time to cover her face from the fire. She coughed, the heat burning the thin hairs on her arms and singeing her robes. She couldn’t breath, the heat too much, the smoke too thick, she ordered more bodies at the boy, trying to keep him back, but she felt them fail, felt their flesh turn to ash. How long had they been here? She was so tired…

 

A hand gripped her collar and she was pulled up roughly until she hit something solid. She struggled weakly, her fists pressing against it; her eyes stung and tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to look up.

 

“Stop it, would you?”

 

Her breath hitched and her arms went limp against Byakuya’s chest and she let herself rest her head against his shoulder, blinking away the tears. He was so warm…

 

“I’m trying to be a good person here and―” 

 

A sudden chill, from her feet all the way to her waist. Her head rolled to the side so she could look… Water? But, not quite…

 

“―it’s really hard for me, you know?”

 

There was a hiss, as the waters met Kagutsuchi’s flames, dousing them and releasing hot steam that misted against her skin, just as heavy as the smoke had been, but at least they were no longer choking. The boy struggled in the water as it engulfed him, he tried to stay afloat, the waves almost as tall as him.

 

Byakuya gave her a shove, and Kagura had to shake herself into motion.

 

“Move! Idiot.”

 

She had no energy to be angry with him as she finally grabbed the lifeline and began to pull herself up. Byakuya followed at the same sluggish pace, slinking up behind her until they were above the steam and smoke. Izanami’s crimson eyes followed them until they disappeared into the shadows.

 

_ “...please… don’t…” _

 

A bright spot appeared above her, and she could only assume that it was Takahiko, the damned bird waiting impatiently for them without lifting a single infected feather. She didn’t have the time to berate him, as below, Byakuya let out a strangled curse.

 

“...persistent little  _ fuck!” _

 

Kagura had to crane her head to see past him, at the fire that licked at their lifeline as Kagutsuchi climbed after them. Tiny as he might be, he gained on them, advancing up the rope until the fire was nipping at Byakuya’s heels.

 

“Cut the rope!” Takahiko yelled from above.

 

Byakuya curled in on himself as the flames danced around his ankles, burning the fabric of his socks. He echoed Takahiko’s orders, trying to pull himself farther upwards and away from the heat. Kagura inhaled sharply and braced herself against the line, if she missed…

 

“Don’t fucking move!” She could hardly see, and the flames were already at his shins, his feet slipping as he tried to hold still against the rope. No time for second guessing herself, she hold on with one hand, flicked open her and aimed down, a wind blade slicing through the cord just below Byakuya’s belly. He yelped, his legs flailing as he lost his grip.

 

The rope fell to the ground, Kagutsuchi’s body colliding with the corpses below with a sickening thud. Kagura hung suspended, the rope no longer solid and swaying slightly with the force of their movements. She tried to catch her breath.

 

“Hey, uh―” Below, Byakuya hung by one hand, his legs pumping under him and trying to gain purchase on the braid.

 

Kagura watched him a moment. She could leave him where she’d found him, pitiful and broken, but, something about that didn’t sit right, and she found herself inching downwards, as close as she could, until she could hang from the rope, braced by one hand and her ankles locked. She reached down, her hand closing around his wrist and yanking him upwards so quickly that even when her grip slipped, leaving them both holding their breath, he was quick enough to grab hold with his own strength. He braced himself, hanging beside and just a little below her, Kagura had to crane her neck to meet his eyes.

 

“I won’t carry you,” she said, keeping her voice even.

 

His lip quirked as if he was holding back a smile. “I know.”

 

Smoke and steam still billowed far below, the smothered light of the flames the only thing that allowed her to see where she put her hands, one above the other. Izanami shrieked, her fist beating against the ground in earth shattering thumps.

 

 “...  _ No! Shi―!” _

 

Izanami’s scream faded into the darkness, giving way to agonized wailing.

 

They looked towards the sky and climbed. __

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: so i posted the last chapter early because i really thought i would have this one done last week and that just… didn’t happen. Didn’t expect this one to go this long as i’m not super comfortable writing action scenes, but i hope everything comes across alright.
> 
> There are maybe... 5 more chapters to go in this arc, so we’re almost at the end of godly adventures!


	16. II. Between this World and the Next

**** Her muscles ached, her arms and legs twitched with the effort of climbing and there were surely hard calluses dotting her palms. She wouldn’t deign to ask Takahiko how long it had been, or how much farther they still had to go; the crane would probably just give her a dirty look and no answer, she'd rather save her breath.

 

Below, Byakuya still clung to the rope, slinking along as sluggish as before, the sound of his ragged breathing the only thing echoing in the darkness. 

 

Izanami's screams and the light of Kagutsuchi's fires had faded what felt like hours ago, no way to tell the passage of time in the blinding abyss they hung in. The silence was nearly as deafening as the goddess had been, the darkness even worse than the moaning corpses she’d been subjected to; at least then there’d been something to look at. Now, her eyes were playing tricks on her, casting shadows and finding spots of light that weren’t there. She lamented not resting before she’d come here, as Kagura sorely needed it now.

 

Another dim white spot caught her eye, just above their heads, and she hated how hope sprung to life in her chest.

 

“We’ve almost made it.”

 

Takahiko’s voice only broke her concentration for a moment, but the words had the both of them picking up their pace, a burst of energy that felt like forever until that foggy haze became solid, a circle of white that she could nearly taste, so desperate to be free of the darkness. Fog drifted down from that light, so delicate and refreshing as it kissed her skin, she had to struggle to keep her eyes open, wanting simply to relish in that fine mist; soon enough they would be free, she couldn’t indulge herself with the cool sensation when there were still hours left to climb. 

 

Her knuckles brushed against something hard when she reached for her next hold, scraping the skin and more than likely leaving paper thin cuts. She paused, narrowing her eyes and palming against the air in front of her face as her eyes struggled to focus.

 

“I wouldn’t rely on that, if I were you,” ―how the  _ hell _ did he―? “we still aren’t safe yet.”

 

It felt like stone, uneven and coarse, but slick from the moisture in the air, and she had to agree with the bird that it wouldn’t do her any good if she tried to use that instead of the rope, especially since she could hardly see it. Better not to take the chance.

 

Further up and the shadowed rock inches from her face began to take shape, gray stone, smooth as river rock, angling upwards to a rim she knew was just out of reach. So close, yet…

 

When Takahiko disappeared above her she nearly screamed, but then his head popped over the edge, framed by the wide sphere of the sky and silhouetted by that blinding bright light and her heart soared. 

 

Kagura wanted to kiss the ground when her fingers finally found the rim, and she hastily pulled herself up and over, scrambling along solid ground and relishing the feel of it beneath her fingertips. She threw herself onto her back, squinting at the sky, at the stone towers shadowing them, and digging her fingers in the pebbled dirt. A toothy grin burned her cheeks, her heart felt light in her chest and― 

 

“ _ Fuck―” _ the sound of fabric sliding against stone, “―mind giving me a hand? I’ve only got the one, you know.”   __

 

She turned her head, just to see the top of Byakuya’s ponytail barely breaching the rim of the hole they’d crawled out of. She hesitated, her muscles not ready to move just quite yet, but Takahiko was already there, grabbing hold of the man by the fabric at his shoulder and pulling him out. Byakuya landed on his knees, his one hand bracing him against the dirt. He blinked stupidly, his gaze stuck on the ground beneath his palms and breathing heavy. Kagura pulled herself up, leaning back on her elbows, when he suddenly jumped to his feet and turned his face to the sky.

 

“It’s so  _ bright,”  _ his voice bordering on a moan, “it’s  _ wonderful.” _

 

Kagura watched him, thought she spotted droplets clinging to his lashes, but chose to ignore it.

 

“How long were you there for?”

 

He inclined his head. “Too long, far too long.”

 

Kagura had to agree, even minutes in that damned place had felt like an eternity, and looking over the both of them, they looked as if it had been. She grimaced, they were  _ filthy. _

 

“And good riddance,” Byakuya drawled suddenly, turning on his heel to stand far too close to the edge of that bottomless pit for someone who’d just spent an untold amount of time climbing out of it. He kicked several pebbles off the edge, they clattered against the side, echoing, until they vanished into the darkness below. He emphasized his derision with a well aimed ball of spit, and then turned back to the two of them.

 

“You will fall in if you stand so close,” Takahiko said. Byakuya’s lips thinned like he might argue that, but then after a quick glance over his shoulder he took a particularly large step forward. Kagura snorted, then bit her lip to contain a chuckle when he shot her a glare.

 

“ _ Anyway,”  _ he started, aiming his annoyance directly at her, “thanks so much for the help, but I’ll be going―”

 

“This is not earth.”

 

Byakuya snapped his mouth shut and took a deep breath, waiting for the crane to continue.

 

Something screeched over head, she and Byakuya flinched, but Takahiko was unfazed. Kagura was on her feet in seconds, fan in hand as she dispelled the fog that hung over them, revealing moss covered stones and― 

 

Bones.

 

Behind her, Byakuya let out a very deep sigh.

 

The skull of some great beast eyed them, sun bleached, silent as Izanami’s castle had been, but this was… different. The gentle green of moss clung to the skeleton in patches, watered by the mists that surrounded them and fed by the light that was too soft to be the sun. Life where there was death. Kagura snapped her head up to the sky.

 

A land of white mist and giant bones.

 

“This is the border, isn’t it?”

 

Takahiko gave an affirmative hum, but Kagura hardly heard it over the sound of her feather expanding and the air pressing underneath to lift her into the sky. 

 

Exactly like Hakudoushi had said, all those months―years?―ago, that fucking runt. A world of dim light, heavy fog, skeletal birds, spiked mountains piercing the sky, and the bones of giant creatures littering the valleys between. She could see the dark silhouette of the life line, hanging between the spires and disappearing into the fog. Despite the chill in the air, Kagura never thought she’d be so happy to be in purgatory.

 

Byakuya joined her in the sky seconds later, Takahiko not far behind as they drifted on the winds. A flock of skeletal birds flew past them, the two of them ducked away as the crane overtook them.

 

“It is the darkness of hell that drives them to madness,” he said, a feather dislodged from his wing and he tipped slightly before righting himself, “you have nothing to fear from them here.”

 

She and Byakuya exchanged a glance, but neither deemed it necessary to respond, Byakuya pulled ahead of her with a shake of his head.

 

The mist kissing her skin as they flew felt like heaven after what they’d been through, and though she desperately wanted to set her feet on solid earth, she figured that the cold wind of the borderland was close enough. The quiet was beautiful, though her ears still rang with the echoes of moaning corpses, as she looked down at the skeletons below she took some comfort in their silence, knowing that here the dead had long since passed on. A grim consolation, but one she clung to just the same, safe in the knowledge that this fruitless quest was almost over and she could finally return to the land of the living.

 

Ahead a shadow loomed, nothing more than a specter in the fog. Kagura squinted against the glare of the light refracted, trying to distinguish the enormous mass; and then when they’d flown close for her to make out colors and shapes, she decided she’d have been better off not knowing. Her eyes hurt from rolling back in her head.

 

_ Everything starts and ends with  _ him _ , doesn’t it? _

 

Byakuya let out a low whistle beside her, his eyes glued to the same set of bones.

 

Evidence of battle became clearer the closer they got, spires broken in half or gouged from the claws of a windscar. The rubble lay scattered below, and though she knew what the outcome had been, the evidence of it was still a sight to behold. 

 

The Inu no Taishou’s skeleton solidified from the fog, dull armor still good enough to shine in the light, the spikes of his pauldron still sharp enough to cut. Kagura eyed the corpse with disdain, almost wishing the bones had enough life in them for her to berate him for the sons he’d sired. But no, the old dog’s body lay still, mouth agape in an eternal snarl, playing sentry for the rest of the dead on their way to hell. 

 

As they neared she spotted the gaping hole in his armor, his ribs open to the world, she started a moment, curious if it was the blow that felled him, but a sudden flash of light caught her eye.

 

“Oi!” Byakuya called to her as her feather drifted down so she could peer into the dog’s ribcage. 

 

She nearly laughed at his skull laden body, Housenki’s diamond head front and center and staring at her with absent eyes. Her feet found purchase amongst the bones in his belly, and she wondered if it was only the youkai of the family that were so fucking pretentious. Inuyasha was damn loud, but at least the bastard never put on airs. A skeleton full of skeletons. Who the hell was that meant to impress? And who’d been stuck with the job― 

 

“What the―?”

 

She turned as Byakuya landed behind her, a furrow in his brow and his eyes glued to the shimmering, adamantine mass of Housenki’s corpse.  

 

“Diamond…?”

 

Takahiko landed just behind him, looking impatient and none too pleased, probably ready to start griping about the barbarity of the inu-youkai. She turned away and ignored them both, in favor of wandering deeper into the dog’s chest cavity. The skulls beneath her feet shifted and groaned as she went, but gave no protest. Kagura craned her neck up, a dull speck of light above where the armor of his chest pulled away from his spine. Such an ominous grave, for someone who’d supposedly had a kind heart. 

 

Her eyes caught on a scar on the ribs, near the ostentatious altar to nothing, she stepped up, eyeing the massive mark, but it only took a few seconds to recognize it for what it was.

 

She palmed the bone where the calcium had been melted away, the poison long having done its work had left behind nothing but a drooping mess of fossilized stone. With some chagrin, she wondered if disdain for their fathers was something they shared. 

 

With a scoff she turned back, Takahiko was tapping his foot against the skull of an oni impatiently, and if he’d had teeth Kagura knew he would have been grinding them. Byakuya, on the other hand, stood there looking lost, his eyes unfocused on a shimmering diamond spike larger than his head in his hand. Kagura cleared her throat, and she swore he jumped, eyes wild as he spun to look up at her.

 

“I’m sick of the dead,” she sneered, “let’s get the fuck out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter kicked my ass, as short as it is. I had to get started on sections of the next few chapters just to get over it, still had a bad case of writers block tho, especially since i’m trying to end this arc with some decency. I lied last time when I said there’d only be five chapters left, right now i’m looking at 6 more, i think they’ll be on the shorter side, but honestly who knows


	17. II. Apples and Oranges

**** “Welcome back.”

 

Kagura couldn’t help the sneer that pulled at her lips when the guardians greeted them, Gozu and Mezu prostrated on either side of the gateway. So respectful of those who had managed to survive in the world beyond.

 

It seemed as if Byakuya shared her sentiment, eyeing the stone men with as much disdain as Kagura had the first time she’d seen them, a frown marring his brow and his eyes darting between them.

 

“Is this…  _ it _ ?”

 

Takahiko gave a firm nod, and Byakuya’s eyes lit up as if he might jump for joy but instead was containing the impulse, looking like he might combust from the excitement. His pace quickened, and Kagura found she struggled to keep up with him as they left the guardians behind in the darkness. She had to watch her step, amongst the fossilized youkai, grimacing when she spotted one she recognized.

 

The land of fire hadn’t changed, still barren and burnt, acrid smoke filling the sky, but that didn’t matter to the man who’d lived in the darkness amongst corpses for months. Byakuya swung his arm out to the side―a gesture that might have been impressive if he had more than one―and took a deep breath.

 

“Well, isn’t this  _ wonderful _ ?”

 

Kagura snorted. “I’d agree with you if you weren’t ruining the scenery.”

 

“Hn?” He puckered his lips and raised a brow at her, giving her one long once over. “You ain’t looking too good yourself.”

 

 “You  _ both  _ need to purify yourselves,” Takahiko cut in, sticking his beak between them, “even bathing will not wash the filth of yomi away and you’ll bring disease if you do not.”

 

Byakuya scrunched his nose and sniffed lightly. “You can just say we stink.”

 

“That was not what I―” Kagura snickered as the crane sputtered, and she was sure that he would be blushing if not for the feathers fluffed up around his eyes. Takahiko finally shook his head when the corner of Byakuya’s mouth began to twitch. He looked between them, which wasn’t very hard considering that his eyes could see both sides of his head. After a moment, he let out a resigned sigh.

 

“Just follow me.”

 

* * *

Once they were beyond the sulphuric stink and soot laden air of the land of fire, she began to feel much more like herself.

 

Barren earth gave way to hills and valleys of lush greenery. Birds sang below, carried by the wind as the trees shook with the force of it; a chorus behind the melody. Kagura’s eyes drifted shut as she listened, her ear a little sharper now as she listened to the eddies. Joyful, they sang, and for a second, she felt that it was for her return.

 

She shook off the thought as she opened her eyes and turned her gaze to Byakuya. He looked just as euphoric as she felt, his eyes darting back and forth as they flew; his face was neutral, but there was an almost palpable air to him, the light in his eyes brighter than they’d been even in the borderland. For a second though, his gaze faltered as he blinked and glanced behind them, then shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. He said nothing, so Kagura elected to ignore it.

 

Above and ahead of them, the bald patch on Takahiko’s belly had grown, and though he gave no indication of it, she had the feeling that the problem was more than superficial. What would become of him, now that they’d failed to bring back his master? He’d said nothing, truly hadn’t even been angry. Whatever ill addled him, maybe it was better than being stuck in that wasteland for all eternity. She didn’t think the god would begrudge him that, but she wondered if the bird would continue to shrivel up, until he just disappeared.

 

He didn’t lead them far, just deep enough in the forest that the ash and smoke had disappeared below the horizon. 

 

A valley between two misty mountains, a river flowing between them. They came from downstream, and as they neared the crux of the valley, she began to feel the same tingling shocks she noticed near Ise begin to dance along the skin of her cheeks.

 

The mist thickened as they went, and just as she could hardly see the tip of her feather, it cleared. 

 

And the valley dropped beneath them.

 

The sudden change in pressure had her stumbling, but she righted herself just as Takahiko began to glide down, following the line of the waterfall as it fell to the rocks below. The water dropped over some two hundred feet, down into a deep black pool. The crane took several spiraling loops, passing through the curtain of the falls as he did so, splashing through the mist and leaving a trail of droplets in his wake. He glided until he made one final loop over the pool and landed on the rocky bank with a flutter of wings. She and Byakuya were only seconds behind, though a little less extravagant in their flight, landing lightly a few steps behind him.

 

Above, the falls disappeared into a foggy sky, framed by overhanging branches from the trees that lined the pool. Kagura craned her neck, squinting against the brightness of the sky. A fat orange hung from the branch above her head and she spotted several more hidden amongst the leaves.

 

“Best to take one,” Takahiko said, giving her a nod, “the waters will cleanse the flesh, but the grot of hell penetrates deep.”

 

Kagura grimaced as the crane stretched his long neck and plucked a fruit straight from the tree, his beak stretched wide to accommodate the mass, his throat swelled as he swallowed the orange whole, stem and all.

 

“Is that even safe?” Byakuya hummed as he plucked one that was nearly the size of his hand, “for the two of us, I mean.”

 

“It will not harm you, jyaki or no.”

 

Byakuya shrugged and took a seat leaning against one of the boulders bordering the pool. The falls continued to rage behind them, roaring as it plummeted against the rocks, he turned the orange in his palm a few times, rubbing his thumb against the flesh. Kagura reached up and took her own, giving it a gentle squeeze to test it before she pulled it down. 

 

“Wait here, I’ll be back in a moment.” And with that the bird was walking off into the foliage.

 

She watched his back until he disappeared and then turned her attention back to the orange. She jammed a thumb into its navel, splitting the rind and causing juice to pool around the gouge she’d made. She pulled it apart until it split in half and she could pry the wedges from the flesh. The juice stained her hands, sticky and dry, as she popped a sliver onto her tongue. 

 

The sweetest thing she had ever tasted, so flavorful that it burned the inside of her cheeks like acid. She chewed slowly, savoring it as juice dribbled down her wrist, leaving a smooth line on her skin as it washed away the muck and grime. She swallowed, felt the warmth of it going down her throat and as it settled in her belly. She took another wedge between thumb and forefinger, shooting Byakuya a glance as she bit into it.

 

He’d stopped twirling it and was now throwing it into the air, catching it just before it landed in his lap. And he was staring at her.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothin’,” he said with a shake of his head, “you just seemed to be enjoying that, is all.”

 

With a snort she turned her back on him, just as the crane returned with a bundle wrapped up and hanging from his beak. He dropped it on a nearby rock.

 

“New robes, I imagine you’re in need of them.”

 

Byakuya stopped tossing the orange. “Ya’  _ think?”  _

 

“Forgive me for assuming you would want to eat first.” He said it demurely, but there was something underneath it that had Byakuya pursing his lips. “Those falls have been purified by Izanagi no Mikoto himself, bathing yourself beneath the waters will wash away anything leftover from yomi.” The crane made a gesture with his head, nodding towards the water. “There’s a path that leads behind the falls, follow it and you will find the water less turbulent.”

 

Kagura popped another sliver in her mouth, following his gesture. Several flat stones led away behind the larger boulders and into the mist of the falls. 

 

“I suggest you burn your clothes, anything you intend to keep should be washed in the waters as well.”

 

She looked down at herself, and had to concede that her kosode would have to go. A shame, but between the viscera staining it or the rips caused by skeleton fingers, she didn’t see the point in trying to salvage it. 

 

“And you? What’re you gonna’ be doing. Besides chaperoning us?”

 

The crane shook his head. “You need no chaperone. I must go and confer with Fuujin-sama.”

 

Kagura rolled her eyes. Better to get it over with, she supposed. 

 

“Fuujin?” Byakuya hummed, he was picking at the navel or his orange with his thumbnail, “is this about that god you mentioned?”

 

He’d heard that? 

 

“It is,” Takahiko nodded, “he will want to meet you.”

 

Probably to see who’d taken his nephew’s ticket. Whatever, that wasn’t exactly her problem anymore.

 

“I’ll return with him soon. I suggest you tidy yourselves beforehand.”

 

With that the bird stretched his wings―not the most flattering sight, as it showcased his balding belly―but then it didn’t matter as he was in the air and soaring back beyond the cliffs and thankfully leaving them alone.

 

She finished off the last of her orange and tossed the peel into the trees. Byakuya had jammed his thumb into his, but with only one hand he was struggling to split it the way she had, and had resorted to peeling it with his teeth. He stopped when he noticed her looking at him and nodded towards the falls.

 

“You go,” he said, spitting out a piece of the rind, “I’ll start a fire, or something.”

 

Kagura shrugged and grabbed the bundle the bird had dropped. She sneered. A simple white kosode and grey obi to match. With a roll of her eyes she made her way up towards the falls, untying her own belt as she went. The stones were slick with moisture and she was careful to find her footing as she continued to strip off her robes. 

 

Like the crane had said, the path led behind the falls, covered in moss where the stones hadn’t been battered by the force of the water. She tossed her magenta kosode to the rocks, it would be soaked after, but that meant it would only take a little longer to burn. Then went the indigo one, and then the green went on the ground. Her earrings she do without, so they went in the pile. She pulled the comb and the small compact of rouge from the inside of her sleeve, the comb she placed with her fan and her feathers, but the rouge would have to burn. The goddess’ fan was put in the bundle of the things she would keep, and she carried them with her behind the raging water.

 

It was dark behind the falls, but she could still spot what Takahiko had meant. The water had carved out a cavern, a dome of smooth rock and moss, but cracks had formed in the roof of it, allowing for spouts of water to fall through, as gentle as a summer deluge.

 

She found a small puddle, just deep enough for her to place her things. Kagura swirled the comb a minute as her feathers slowly began to sink. Grime clouded the water, leeching off the comb’s teeth and the still tender pink skin of her hand, until she’d rinsed it for long enough that the bowl cleared again. She untied her hair and stepped under one of the more generous spouts, letting the water pound against her skull and rinse out her hair. She could nearly feel the filth running off of her in rivulets, she could see it, peeling off, layer by layer, on her belly and thighs.

 

Though she’d undone the bind in her hair, it didn’t fall from the bun. The gore had soaked into her hair so deeply it had matted the strands together, and it took several minutes of sharp yanking to finally get her hair to give and fall to her shoulders. It was another ten before she’d wrangled it into something passable.

 

Finally, once she felt that most of the knots were gone, she scrubbed her face with her fingers, letting the water fall around her eyes as she took a deep breath.

 

The skin of her palms had begun to wrinkle by the time she made her way out of the water, feeling much better than she had in what felt like months. She gathered her things from the puddle, shaking the water from them. The fans and her feathers were waterlogged, but a little while beside the fire would be enough to dry them. She pulled the white kosode around her shoulders, the linen just thick enough to be opaque as she carefully picked her way back towards the shore, dragging her old robes along behind her.

 

Despite being one-handed, Byakuya was quite… well,  _ handy.  _ Kagura hadn’t been keeping track of time, but the fire he’d made was already roaring by the time she returned, belching thick black smoke as it burned. She was surprised to find him sitting rather close on the other side of the flames, his feet nearly touching the coals and his one arm propping up his chin. 

 

He was barefoot and shirtless, the only thing left on him the hakama that he’d untied and let fall to his ankles. He’d let his hair down, too, but without anything to work through it, it hadn’t moved much beyond the matted ponytail he’d sported when she’d found him.

 

“I was starting to worry there, thought you’d really been purified,” he quipped as she tossed her clothes into the flames. Byakuya jumped to his feet as the fire spat out more smoke, the flames raging a bit too close to his legs. He coughed loudly as the fire crackled and popped, and shot her a glare through the smoke. “A little warning next time!”

 

She only waved a hand at him in some semblance of apology as she knelt to set her things near the fire, hopefully not too close to catch. She heard him snort derisively before his feet moved towards the other robe the bird had left, he gathered it up with a  _ ‘hmph!’  _ and a rustle of cloth. She stood as he passed her, but it wasn’t until he’d made it up the path that he let slip a comment under his breath, barely audible, but enough to carry his voice to her ears on the wind. If she’d had her fan in hand, she would have snapped it against her thigh, instead she had to content herself with a curled lip and an ineffective snarl as she snapped her neck to look over her shoulder at him still walking away up the path, just a few steps from the raging wall of water, and― 

 

_ No. _

 

Blood roared in her ears and her heart stuttered painfully in her chest.

 

_ No no no no  _ **_no!!_ **

 

Not possible.

 

Had the darkness of hell blinded her that severely? He couldn’t be… but the coincidence couldn’t be ignored, either.  _ He’d _ changed his face before, so why not― 

 

She dropped to one knee, snatching her fan in one hand just as he was about to step behind the wall of water. A wind blade curled off her fan, spinning as fast as sound towards the falls, her aim sure and true and directed at the spider’s heart. Byakuya turned, his eyes going wide, and disappeared just as the blade sliced through the water.

 

“Oi, oi!” 

 

Kagura spun, the voice coming from―behind? 

 

“What’s gotten into you?” His voice echoed through the trees, blending in with the commotion of the river. “And here I thought we were getting along so  _ well.” _

 

“Shut the fuck up!” she hissed, her eyes darting around the river bank, “Who are you?!”

 

“Shouldn’t you be asking  _ where _ ?” 

 

Above! She whipped her head up, Byakuya floated above her beside the line of smoke, bent over at the waist with a hand on his hip as he peered down at her. 

 

Kagura leapt back, her heels bumping into stone, she whipped another wind blade at him, this one a little less sure in its course than the previous. He looked unconcerned by it, until it caught him in the shin, the fabric of his pants didn’t tear, but blood gushed from the wound beneath, and Byakuya’s eyes widened in confusion.

 

“What the hell’s your problem?!”

 

“My  _ problem?!”  _ Kagura screamed, her voice bordering on hysterical. Too stupid, but even if he wasn’t acting― “Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot! What’re the chances of  _ you  _ being the one I pull from hell? What game are you playing at this time?!”

 

“Game?” He raised a brow and cocked his head to the side. “Sorry, am I supposed to know who you are?”

 

“Don’t play fucking stupid!” Her voice bordered on hysterical as she swung at him again. He vanished. “That fucking―the same as  _ mine!  _ The fucking spider… You son of a bitch! What is he planning now? Is that why I came back? Was all of this just―just another fucking―”  

 

Byakuya appeared again on the other side of the fire, his eyes wide and brows furrowed as he stared at her through the flames. 

 

“I don’t―”

 

“Was this his trick all along?!” Her head had started to ache. “That fucking Naraku, he―!” 

 

“ _ Naraku?” _

 

She swung at him again, but he was gone before the blade had sliced through the smoke, and then suddenly everything disappeared.

 

“A spider the same as yours, huh?” His voice echoed around her, the darkness suffocating as it blinded her. “You’re right, that  _ is  _ some coincidence.”

 

Kagura swung out with her fan, calling on a dragon dance to disperse whatever he’d thrown at her, but nothing came of it. The veil was still just as oppressive, she couldn’t even hear the falls anymore, or feel the heat of the fire. Had he moved them…?

 

“The wind witch.” It sounded like he was right in her ear. “He never said a name, only that there’d been one like me, who’d grown too arrogant to be useful…”

 

Her ears rang in the silence between his words. 

 

“I guess he meant you, huh?” 

 

A spot of light appeared beside her, growing larger with every breath she took. She swung again, but it only continued to edge closer, faster and faster, until she could make out a face…

 

_ “Kagura,”  _ a voice slick as oil and just as dangerous,  _ “how kind of you to revive your dear little brother. Going all the way to hell for him. I didn’t know the bonds between my servants could be so… familial.” _

 

_ Not real, not real, not real.  _ Kohaku had never said his name, only that there’d been a last one. A replacement. One who could bend reality and who’d died during the final battle. She hadn’t cared then, but she wished she’d asked more questions. Her chest heaved. The darkness around her began to move, glimmering in the dim light of Naraku’s glowing visage. It pulsed, like a wave, breaking into segments, and  _ slithering―  _

 

Something touched her arm and a snarl broke itself from her throat as she swung her fan again, just trying to hit something.

 

_ “Now, now, Kagura, show your father some respect…” _

 

“Fuck you, Byakuya!” 

The face broke apart, split in two and fluttering in that void. The light exploded across her eyes as it morphed, growing and growing until all the darkness that had blinded her was eaten up, swallowed by what had once been his likeness, it grew and grew until it was a perfect sphere, a black hole that swallowed all light. Kagura’s arm fell to her side as she tried to calm her thundering heart, her fan still gripped white knuckle tight as a sneer curled her lips.

 

The edges of the sphere morphed, blurring, developing new curves and angles; until the spider’s maw opened to reveal glinting fangs, its legs stretched out wide in preparation to lunge as red eyes fixated on her.

 

She wanted to laugh.

 

“Is that meant to scare me?” Was that the final form he’d taken? Nothing but a fantasy. “You never saw the truth of him, did you?”

 

She forced her erratic heartbeat to slow as she took a calming breath. The spider advanced on her, scurrying across the white expanse between them with a speed that something of its size shouldn’t be able to achieve. She couldn’t see beyond the veil he’d cast, and she couldn’t hear much beyond the thudding of the spider’s footfalls, but if she focused, if she really  _ listened―  _

 

There.

 

Kagura swung, and the answering curse told her she’d managed to find her mark.

 

The veil fell away just as the spider would have closed it’s jaws around her head. The sound of the waterfall flooded her ears and she realized too late that she was standing too close to the spreading fire, as her robes nearly caught flame and her skin itched with the residual heat as she leapt away quickly.

 

Byakuya stood a few feet away, amongst the trees. Clutching his face, the smallest trickle of blood seeping through his fingers.

 

“How did you find me in hell?”

 

Byakuya let go of his head as he snapped up to look at her. There was a gouge across his forehead, spilling blood down his nose and into his eyes. He tried to wipe it away, but the wound bled too quickly for it to make any difference.

 

“Find  _ you?  _ Not to sound ungrateful, but you’re the one that stumbled on me,” he hissed, the blood caught on his lip and stained his teeth, “it’s not as if I was there waiting for some dashing rescue.”

 

“Bullshit!” He dodged her wind blade. “He always had some scheme, even coming back from the dead―”

 

“So he did…?” 

 

She didn’t let him finish his thought, unleashing another dance of dragons on him. He disappeared before the assault could reach him. But the winds fanned the fire at her feet, and despite the mist in the air, the flames grew, reaching for the orange trees…

 

A lashing root shot up from the rocks, latching onto her ankle and trying to drag her down. It only managed to knock her off balance, she landed on one knee and tried to find him again amongst the trees. More wind blades, slicing through the branches over her head as she felt his aura darting jerkily above her.

 

The debris she was causing only fanned the flames, and suddenly the fire had spread to lick at the base of the closest tree. Another root shot from the ground to wrap around her arm. She struggled, her wind erratic as she tried to break free from the hold while focusing on where the fuck he’d― 

 

“ _ Enough!” _

 

A wall of water hit her over the head, and she went tumbling into the trunk of a tree, thudding against it square in the back hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. She gasped futilely as she sank to the ground amongst the roots. Steam billowed around her, and as she blinked through a curtain of hair she could see Byakuya propping himself up on hands and knees and coughing against the rocks, looking surprisingly a little less bedraggled than he had earlier.

 

Kagura spluttered, now fully soaked again, with her hair falling in her face. She flailed to push it back, rubbing her eyes against her sleeve to clear her vision. There was a shadow hovering over her, and it wasn’t the trees.

 

Kagura drew her lips into a thin smile.

 

“Well, I see you survived, at least.” Fuujin had his arms crossed in front of his chest and looked wholly unamused.

 

She pulled herself to her feet and dusted herself off with only a cursory glance at Byakuya. He was on his knees, staring wide eyed at the wind god. 

 

“I should not have left them alone, Fuujin-sama, my deepest apologies.” The crane had his head bowed low as he appeared from behind the god’s jade shoulder. If Takahiko was glaring at her, she couldn’t tell for the lack of eyebrows.

 

“No, I can’t say I’m surprised,” Fuujin said, rubbing his chin as he looked at what was definitely not his godly nephew.

 

“I won’t apologize.” Better to get it over with now, she supposed. His eyes slid to her and he raised a brow. “We searched and not even the damn bird could find him. I wasn’t about to keep dodging Izanami or her flaming brat for nothing.”

 

A grin broke out on Fuujin’s face. “Ah, you met Kagutsuchi? A wonder you made it back alive.”

 

_ That son of a―  _ “You knew about him?!”

 

“Well, of course,” he said, rubbing his chin, “I underestimated him, I suppose. My mistake.”

 

“Your―” She blinked stupidly. “He nearly burnt my arm to the bone!” True, it had mostly healed despite the rough treatment as they’d climbed, but the skin was still a little pink...

 

“It’s true, was pretty nasty, too,” Byakuya chimed in, not so helpfully.

 

“ _ Shut the fuck up! _ ”

 

“So you’re the other one?” 

 

Byakuya snapped his mouth shut as Fuujin’s gaze settled on him again. The wind god took a few steps toward him, and Byakuya jumped to his feet and straightened his back. It made no difference, Fuujin was still nearly twice his size.

 

“Yes, your familiar very graciously helped me escape that dreadful place,” he said. And then he did something that had Kagura rolling her eyes to the point of pain. He bowed at the hips. “My name is Byakuya and you have my deepest gratitude.”

 

Fuujin blinked at him, and then a chuckle escaped his lips. “Takahiko isn’t my familiar.”

 

Byakuya lifted his head, confusing marring his face.

 

“Idiot,” Kagura muttered under her breath.

 

“You see, these two were meant to retrieve my nephew from the underworld, the wind god Shinatsuhiko,” he said. Byakuya straightened back to his full height, his expression unnaturally neutral. “Instead, it seems my nephew is still… missing.”

 

The bob of Byakuya’s adams apple as Fuujin slapped a hand down on his empty shoulder was nearly imperceptible. Almost.

 

“So, now we have a bit of a, how shall I say,” he looked up to the sky as if deep in thought, until a smile tugged at his lips, “well, it’s a problem, isn’t it?”

 

Byakuya opted not to respond. Kagura raised her fan to cover her mouth. Alright, maybe she would feel a  _ little  _ bad for him…

 

“Don’t worry, boy!” Fuujin emphasized this with another clap on Byakuya’s shoulder. “I’m not a terribly vengeful god, you’ve nothing to worry from me. But I will have to ask for your assurance that you’ll do everything you can to make this right. Will you do that?”

 

At this, Byakuya did glance at her. Kagura could only shrug. What the hell was he thinking, looking at her for guidance? She’d just been trying to take his fool head off.

 

He looked back up at Fuujin and nodded once.

 

“Good,” the god said, he smile growing wider. “First thing: no more fighting for now. The both of you.” His grip tightened and Fuujin turned his head to give Kagura a pointed stare. Byakuya nodded again while Kagura rolled her eyes and waved a hand in ascent. Fuujin accepted the gesture nonetheless. 

 

“Wonderful.” And then he leaned down, bending at the waist until his face was only inches from Byakuya’s, the god’s grin nearly overtaking his whole face. “Second thing―”

 

With one sweep of his arm, Byakuya went spinning over his shoulder, landing in the pool with a thunderous splash.

 

“Take a fucking bath!”

 

Fuujin’s laughter echoed louder than the sound of the falls as Byakuya broke the surface, sputtering. As her cheeks began to burn as she tried to contain her own laughter, she was beginning to think that maybe the gods weren’t so terrible after all.

 


	18. II. Reflection

**** By the time Byakuya pulled himself out of the water, looking all too much like a wet rat, Fuujin had settled with his back against a boulder and lit his long pipe. Kagura collected her things, still soaking wet, and with no fire she had to lay her fans and feathers out over the rocks again. She went back to combing out her hair, making sure there were no more knots before she put it back up in its usual bind. 

 

Byakuya dripped water in waves as he went back up the path to retrieve his temporary kosode. She didn’t bother to peep at him this time, but she was a little startled when he tossed the balled up remains of his hakama into the pool with a splash. He came stomping back a second later while running his fingers through his hair. 

 

His sleeve was still empty, but the cracks that had ran over his face had healed. The tie of his obi was actually quite neat, and she had half a mind to ask how he’d accomplished it, but then thought better of it, opting instead to watch him try to detangle what had been his matted and locked hair. After several minutes of watching his distinct lack of progress, and whether it was pity or annoyance she couldn’t quite say, but Kagura decided to extend an olive branch.

 

By throwing the comb at him.

 

It hit him square in the chest with a thud. Byakuya’s hand froze, interwoven with the tangles, as he stared at the offending object as it landed in his lap. His head snapped up and his lips pulled into a thin line when he glared, but he kept his mouth shut in lieu of saying thank you.

 

Ruefully, she wondered if the urge to throttle him would be as strong if Naraku still lived. Then again, she’d probably want to just kill him outright.

 

Fuujin seemed relatively unperturbed by his painfully absent nephew, or the petulant duo he'd received instead. He’d sat down against the boulders after he’d tossed Byakuya in the pool, had exchanged some hushed words with the crane but had otherwise been quietly smoking. It was disturbing, Kagura tried to sit still, but she found herself fidgeting with her fan or her sleeve, glancing at the god every few seconds, waiting for the dam to break, for  _ something.  _ But it seemed he was content to just let her sit there and stew in her own anxiety.

 

Finally, when Byakuya had finished combing through his hair and the silence was starting to buzz in her ear:

 

“So now what?”

 

Fuujin turned his head slowly, plucking the pipe from his lips once he realized her question had been directed at him. 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

She would have swung at him if not for how well that had gone the last time.

 

“You said he―” she meant  _ we _ , but jammed a thumb in Byakuya’s direction, “―needed to make up for coming back with us instead. So?”

 

The god nodded as if he’d forgotten all about it. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

 

Kagura closed her eyes and counted to three.

 

“And you still need to make up for stealing from the shrine,” he began to stroke his chin, “but the thing is, the way things are now, nothing can be done about it for another week.”

 

She hated asking. “What’s in a week?”

 

“The summer solstice.”

 

“ _ Summer? _ How long were we―”

 

“Almost four weeks. Really it’s a blessing you made it back when you did.”

 

Well, it had certainly felt like it had been that long, but she hadn’t expected it to be true. She glanced at Byakuya, that meant he’d been there for nearly three months. He met her stare, seeming to have the same thought.

 

“So we’re just supposed to wait around here for a week?” If he expected that…

 

“No, I never said that.” He tapped his pipe against a rock, spilling the ash onto a patch of moss. “I don’t care what you do the next few days, but I’ll expect you to meet me in Ise in five in order to prepare some things. And you―” he angled his chin towards Byakuya, “I’ll need you to do something for me, once you get there.”

 

Byakuya glanced at her apprehensively, then slowly nodded. 

 

Kagura snorted. No wonder Naraku had made someone like him. 

 

“Fine.” She stood and then stomped over to Byakuya, snatching her comb from where he’d laid it beside him. He leaned away just marginally, which gave her a smug sense of pride. “Then I’m going to get new clothes. No offense.”

 

“None taken,” Takahiko huffed.

 

“I’m going, too.”

 

She would definitely kill him.

 

“No thanks,” she said, grimacing at Byakuya as he stood too close for comfort.

 

He raised a brow at her and pursed his lips, looking all too much like a cat. “Like you could stop me.”

 

“Now, now.” Fuujin’s chuckle broke through the tension between them and Kagura turned away with a huff. “You said you would get along, didn’t you?”

 

“We ain’t children,” she hissed.

 

“But aren’t you?” He laughed as if he’d made some great joke of it, but even the bird declined to join in. After a moment he calmed and slapped a hand on his knee. “Like I said, I don’t care what you do, so long as you don’t go killing each other. I need you both.”

 

“What exactly do you need me for?” Byakuya stepped forward, his empty sleeve brushing against her arm. “I understand you had some deal with her, but forgive me if I don’t understand why my help is necessary.” He paused, and at the god’s darkening expression, he amended: “Besides repaying whatever debt it is I owe, of course.”

 

“How long were you in hell?”

 

“Three months,” she answered for him.

 

Fuujin stroked his cheek a moment. “You were both there long enough to leave an imprint, you see, every soul that passes through yomi does.” He wasn’t looking at them, nodding serenely as his gaze drifted off into the sky. “That imprint is sure to be strong enough that we may be able to use it to retrieve my nephew.” 

 

“And this needs to happen on the solstice?” She tried very hard to keep the edge out of her voice.

 

“Longest day of the year, the sun is at its strongest, and the darkness at its weakest,” he said sagely and then nodded once as if that was the end of it.

 

Fine. She didn’t care to decipher the logic of gods.

 

“Whatever, I’ll be in Ise in five days,” she said waving her hand. At least it would give her time to figure out what exactly she was going to do about Byakuya. A wandering thought saying she had several people who would gladly handle the problem for her… but a wary glance at him had a pinch of something like guilt twisting in her gut. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and pinched a feather between two fingers, ready to take to the sky.

 

“Isn’t he going with you?”

 

She bit back a groan. 

 

“It would be better for you two to stick together,” Fuujin said, a smirk tugging at his lips, “It’ll be easier for Takahiko to find you if needed. And besides, two is always better than one, isn’t it?”

 

She and Byakuya exchanged a glance, seeming to have the same thought, but Kagura was the one to open her mouth first.

 

“Not if I kill him first,” she spat.

 

Fuujin smiled softly, his eyes crinkling in mirth.

 

“I trust you.”

 

She hid her sneer as she tossed her feather and took to the air, Byakuya following only a second behind her. Why the hell would he do that?

 

* * *

 

Their bickering hadn’t lasted very far beyond the valley, the two of them much preferring to sulk silence than indulging a pointless argument. Kagura did have to concede, though, that his company was leagues above and beyond that of Hakudoushi or the baby, and at least he was more entertaining than Kanna had ever been. By the time the sun had set and the glow of firelight had begun to creep over the mountain before them, she had become marginally more comfortable around her…  _ brother;  _ his awe as they crested the peak was nearly as tangible as her own.

 

She’d never seen a city before.

 

Villages and the estates daimyo maintained were one thing. Kagewaki Hitomi’s lands were maintained by several hundred people alone, and the castle itself had been surrounded by quite a bustling town. After they’d left the castle, Naraku had stuck to the mountains, caves, and abandoned shacks, places where his influence would go undetected.

 

So she couldn’t help the gasp that left her lips when they passed over the mountains, and the capital city sprawled out before them.

 

Awash in flickering torchlight, it rivaled the night sky despite the nearly full moon; everything appeared to glow, warm and inviting, as the citizens still walked the narrow streets. As they passed overhead, she could hear music drifting from open windows, tea houses and brothels just beginning their days, street performers with their puppets, monks plying the Buddha’s words. 

 

As pathetic as humans were, she did have to concede them this.

 

There was something a little wondrous about it, so many beings crammed into such a small space. The valley between the mountains and hills a perfect little nest for thousands to call home. Despite the bustling, however, there was still evidence of the turmoil that plagued the rest of the country. Soldiers prowled the streets and samurai still wore their swords proud, peacocking for all to see that despite their casual clothes, they were capable of brutality. 

 

They kept a high altitude, where they could hide among the stars. Below, the river flowed, fat from snow melt and glittering with reflected fire and starlight, humans swam in its depths, splashing and laughing and looking for reprieve from the rapidly warming days. Something pinched deep in her chest, and for a moment she thought it might be envy.

 

She’d been staring too long when she noticed that Byakuya was steadily edging downwards.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” Being able to curse at him without reproach was a small consolation for his presence.

 

He gave her a half hearted shrug. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Or was this just the scenic route? You can’t tell me you’re not a little curious.”

 

Her lips thinned. She was, but that didn’t mean she was willing to deal with getting shot at or stabbed.

 

“We look like ghosts.” All dressed in white, barefoot and barefaced. And now that he was cleaned up, she really wanted to know what the hell Naraku had been thinking when he’d spawned him. Despite the violet eyes, they might as well have been twins.

 

Byakuya made a wide sweep of his arm, and then it was no longer Naraku’s incarnation before her, but instead a fat faced human noble, a fan in his hand and a cloth cap on his head, no longer dressed in the white kosode but now a lavish purple and gold suikan and hakama. He grinned, fanning himself with no lack of pride.

 

“You look ridiculous.”

 

His face fell into a pout. He tapped his chin with the fan, most likely mocking her, then leaned forward at the waist to peer over the side of his origami crane, after a moment he sat back up straight. 

 

“Then what about this?” He flicked his wrist, and― 

 

“ _ No _ .”

 

“What? Come on, it’s a perfect likeness!” The monk’s visage winked at her as he cupped his chin and smirked, his right hand still wrapped in the seal and prayer beads. He’d even thought to include the jingling staff. Kagura rolled her eyes.

 

“He doesn’t have the kazana anymore.”

 

“Oh.” Byakuya held his hand up in front of his face, curiously, and then the bind vanished. “Better?”

 

She shook her head and shrugged. “That monk has a bad reputation, you might do better just to go down there as yourself.”

 

“That’s true.” 

 

When she blinked it was Byakuya’s face again, but his eyes were darker and the points of his ears had rounded, looking more human. He’d illusioned himself a simple pair of tabi and straw sandals, grey hakama, and loose fitted pale blue furisode. He held his arm out in display.

 

“Better?”

 

She nodded once and he seemed pleased enough with himself that she didn’t bother to look back at him until he cleared his throat, barely audible over the sound of the wind. When she turned back to him he gave her a pointed stare and gestured to her with his chin, and when she looked down she let out an audible groan.

 

“This ain’t my style.” He’d given her peasant’s clothes, a plain green kosode with a dark blue apron tied around her waist. She shot a glare at him as he snickered.

 

“I’ve gotten better at this, you know,” he said, twirling his fingers in front of his face, “I wasn’t this good before. You should be grateful, I could’ve just made you a beggar, it would’ve been easier.”

 

Kagura rolled her eyes with a snort, but she ran her hands along the imagined fabric. She could feel the weight of it on her shoulders and thighs, but when she ran her fingers along its edges it sank, not truly tangible but merely a soft pressure pressing back against her skin. The water he’d conjured in hell had been the same, a cool weight, but lacking the distinction between wet and dry. It moved when she did, the sleeves fluttering noisily in the wind when she held out her arm. If she hadn’t been looking for it, she might have fallen for the trick.

 

“It’s not terrible.”

 

If he was irritated by her muted comment he didn’t let it show on his face, instead he took the opportunity to drop straight down.

 

“Oi!”

 

Not one to be outdone, she followed, her feather falling just behind him and heading for a narrow alley. Their rapid descent meant they were less likely to be noticed, and the space they’d landed in was shadowed from the street, empty save for a handful of rats and dirt. Kagura grimaced, but Byakuya was already walking out into the light, his silhouette framed by the plaster walls as he turned to look at her over his shoulder.

 

“Coming?”

 

With a roll of her eyes, she followed.

 

* * *

 

“It stinks.”

 

Sweat and blood and vomit and… other smells. 

 

From the air the stench of so many humans had been negligible, carried away on the wind before it could reach them. But here, surrounded on either side by a bustling crowd, it was nearly gag inducing. Kagura glared at the back of his head and held her sleeve to her nose, calling on a breeze to disperse the stench. It didn’t help.

 

Byakuya merely shrugged, a stupid smirk plastered on his face as he whirled, his eyes lighting on the stalls that surrounded them. Only an hour past sundown, the restaurants still had their fires lit, most of their customers already red in the face despite the early hour. 

 

They’d landed not far from the river, and the road they now walked lead up into the mountains and the temple that overlooked the city. A small blessing that meant many merchants still sold their wares, trying to catch the attention of pilgrims late to arrive to the temple and in need of offerings or new clothes. Every so often her eye would catch on one or another but Byakuya was speeding ahead of her.

 

“Oi! Slow the hell down, would you?” She called after him. They’d come here for a  _ reason,  _ the stink and the crowds were already putting her off, she didn’t need to be chasing after him the whole time.

 

“Huh?” He spun on his heel at her voice, raising a brow at her even though his gaze quickly drifted off just beyond her shoulder. 

 

“We’re here for new clothes, remember?” she hissed, “I don’t need the stink sticking to my hair, too.”

 

He acknowledged her a moment, and then with a quirk of his brows and a dismissive wave of his hand he was walking away again, off into the crowd. Kagura huffed, maybe she was wrong, he was just as obnoxious as the others.

 

A group of samurai passed her by, red in the face and stumbling, their robes pressed and spotless while they rested their elbows on the hilts of their swords. Byakuya’s ponytail disappeared between them, melding in with the mob of topknots. She wanted to snap at him again to cut it out, but when she looked back into the crowd there was something off. 

 

Like wafting heat, the air blurry in the gaps between their bodies. She squinted, trying to figure out―Ah. 

 

Byakuya’s hand slipped into a sleeve, and she could’ve sworn that she shot her a smirk over his shoulder.

 

_ Huh _ . Kagura stepped away from the crowd to lean against a wall with her arms crossed, watching him work, wondering if pickpocketing had been a skill Naraku had needed him for. Useful for snatching jewel shards from those fools who always seemed to keep them in pockets and sleeves and oh so ready for the taking. Idiots, the lot of them. 

 

Her attention drifted, letting Byakuya have his fun while she watched the humans passing by. Families and groups of young men out for the night, pilgrims heading to the temple; until a shout had her snapping back up.

 

Byakuya was bowing deeply, a guilty smile on his face while the samurai surrounded him. He didn’t need her help, but whatever he said had them back off with a grumble. Once they’d dispersed he trotted over to her, a grin pulling at his cheeks. He pulled something from the inside of his collar and held it up for her, wiggling his fingers as the coin purse jingled in the air.

 

“I can be a thief, but  _ never _ a dishonest customer,” he said with a sly grin, and tucked the purse back into the inside of his lapel. 

 

Stealing from the shop or a nobleman’s house would’ve been easier, but whatever, she could let him have his own morals so long as she got what she wanted in the end.

 

Off down an alleyway she spotted a lone vendor, packing away his wares for the night; bolts of vibrant cloth that reflected the scattered light from the street. She hissed at Byakuya to catch his attention and then slipped off to the side as he followed quietly behind. The old man spotted them, and though he seemed a little put off with their late arrival―muttering a curt “welcome in” under his breath―once Byakuya jingled his sleeve he stopped his tidying and waved a hand over his wares, watching them with the eyes of a hawk as they both poked and prodded at the reams of fabric. 

 

“Got anything already done?” she asked, holding up a pale pink cloth. They didn’t have time for tailoring, and she’d prefer to keep their time here short. The man gestured deeper into the shop, where the light from the street hardly reached, and she peered inside.

 

“Mostly used,” he said, and leaned against the frame of the building.

 

They picked their way through the hanging robes, pressed and hung so neatly. She was a bit careful in her choices, picking fabrics that were a bit sturdier despite the warming days. For the inner robe, a thin shift, dyed a deep shade of indigo with a wrap of the same color tied around her hips. On top of that, the middle layer, a crimson kosode, as red as blood and mirroring her eyes. Finally, after she’d fingered through what felt like the whole place, she settled on a violet kosode for the outer. Dark grey storm clouds dotted the shoulder, set against a violet sky that gradually shifted from deep purple to a pale blue near her knees, pink lotus blossoms strung tastefully over her shins and on the ends of her sleeves. The final touch being a deep blue obi, specks of white stitched haphazardly over its surface as if to mimic starlight.

 

She caught Byakuya’s attention before she disappeared behind a display, and once she was out of sight of the merchant, the illusion he’d cast for her melted away, leaving her to change quickly in silence. She discarded the white robes Takahiko had given her in a corner, the merchant could do whatever he liked with them.

 

When she reappeared Byakuya had a stack of cloth slung over his arm and he passed her without a word.

 

Near the front the man had a small display of jewelry, hidden in the corner just inside the doorway, shielded from wandering eyes and fingers. The merchant eyed her as she plucked a pair of earrings from the stand, five freshwater pearls strung onto a red string, she held them up for him and when he nodded she poked them through her earlobes. 

 

Byakuya emerged a few minutes later, he’d donned a sky blue furisode patterned with swirling whirlpools, hakama such a dark shade of green she thought they might be black and tied off at his knees, grey shin guards above his tabi and straw sandals, and finally a long dark blue vest that she was sure had been made from the same cloth as her belt.

 

He handed the man one of what she assumed was only one of the coin purses he’d liberated from the samurai. The merchant weighed it in his hand and seemed pleased enough, he only nodded once and they were on their way again, leaving him to finish packing away his wares.

 

“Much better!” He said with a pleased sigh as he stretched. “Keeping up that illusion is so much work!”

 

She rolled her eyes and kept walking. Further up the hill she spotted an old woman with a cart that held several compacts of rouge. She flagged Byakuya’s attention as she took one and the woman held up a mirror for her to apply it. She watched herself in the mirror, and as she smeared the color across her lips and eyelids, she caught Byakuya’s gaze in the reflection.

 

“What?”

 

“I want that when you’re done.”

 

Her nose crinkled as she turned to look at him. “What? No.”

 

“Why not?” His voice edged on a whine.

 

“Because it’s mine, get your own,” she hissed, and turned back to the mirror. “You’ve got the money for it. Don’t you?”

 

She heard him huff and when she went to dip her finger back into the pot she found that he’d snatched it.

 

“Oi!” She rounded on him, only to see him bent over and smearing the color on his own lips. 

 

“What?” He grinned and snapped the compact shut. “It looks better on me anyway.”

 

She snatched it and a few coins from his palm when he went to pay the woman. He whined in protest but she merely rolled her eyes at him and tucked them both into her sleeve and left him to deal with the old woman while she wandered off back up the street. The capital city was known for its pickled goods and if she was right, it wouldn’t be far before she spotted a stand. 

 

She wasn't wrong, only a few doors down, a small vendor with wooden boxes displaying various briny vegetables and fruits. The woman manning it gestured for her to take her own carton to fill, and she didn't need to be told twice, carefully choosing a few juicy looking plums and taking her fill. She handed the woman all of the coins she'd taken from Byakuya, not bothering to check if she'd paid too much as she popped one in her mouth and turned back to look for him.

 

Her eyes darted over the crowd, scanning for a familiar face, and when she found it, she had to suppress a groan.

 

Byakuya looked positively pleased with himself as he was surrounded by the samurai from earlier and a handful of soldiers, a catlike grin on his face while one of the samurai jammed a finger in his face while the other hand was on the hilt of his sword.

 

Well, now that she was properly attired she could do with some entertainment, she supposed, sucking on another plum.

 

There was yelling from the group of men while Byakuya spoke in muted tones, though it didn’t seem to be helping as the men were only getting more riled up. She just wanted to see someone draw a sword or throw a punch, anything to see what he would do, but then he noticed her stare.

 

His grin grew, stretching his cheeks, and then he fucking waved at her.

 

The men noticed, following his gaze until they spotted her. Byakuya broke away from them, so quickly their heads swiveled trying to figure out where he’d gone, only spotting him in the split second before he threw his arm over her shoulder.

 

“You see―” She leaned away from him as her hands fisted, the urge to knock his head off was only stilled by the curiosity of what the fuck he thought he was doing touching her so casually. “―my sister and I are simply traveling, on our way to the temple to pay our respects and pray for the good health for our parents!”

 

One of the men sputtered, his bushy eyebrows twitching. “Lying thief! I know you took our money!”

 

The soldiers behind him stepped forward, one reaching out to grab for Byakuya’s empty sleeve but stumbling instead, the fabric fluttering just out of reach on a gust of wind. Another advanced on her, an arm out as if he meant to grab her by the forearm.

 

She smacked her fan on the back of his hand hard enough to make him wince.

 

“Think twice about touching me,” she hissed. “Byakuya, I don’t have the patience for whatever game you’re playing.”

 

His chuckle rang in her ear and his hold on her shoulders loosened as he plucked a plum from her carton and tossed it into his mouth. His cheeks puckered, but he licked his lips nonetheless. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right, this isn’t all that fun anyway. They’re too serious.”

 

His hand moved in her peripheral, the weight left her shoulders, but her gaze was focused on the face of the soldier who’d grabbed for her. His eyes went wide, a dawning terror leeching into his face as he backed away from her. The other men began to mimic his expression, their faces going pale and mouths falling open. Their fear almost comedic in its intensity.

 

“Y―youkai!”

 

The cry echoed up and down the street, and then there was chaos.

 

One of the braver men drew his sword and held it above his head, and she couldn’t help the smirk from forming on her lips as a gust of wind pulling off of her fan sent him tumbling down the incline of the street, crashing into stalls and scattering pedestrians. 

 

Byakuya was laughing beside her, the sound of it contagious and soon enough she was chuckling right along with him, delighting in the panic stricken shouts of humans as they scrambled to get away from the “blood thirsty” and thieving youkai in their midst. A few of the samurai and soldiers stayed behind, weapons at the ready but none prepared to make the first move and attack. Well, except one.

 

A bald-headed monk emerged from a break in the crowd, his staff jingling dangerously and sutras pinched between the fingers of his right hand.

 

“Youkai! You dare intrude on a road protected by Kannon herself!” 

 

It was hard to contain her giggles, too amused by the ridiculousness of the situation, but she straightened up just in time for the monk to throw his sutras with a dramatic sweep of his arm.

 

Lax, on her part. The paper hit her square in the face, between her eyes, and for a moment she flinched, expecting the sting of holy power. 

 

But, nothing happened.

 

She blinked and reached up with two fingers to peel the paper from her skin. She eyed it with derision and then met the monk’s face, the color rapidly draining from his cheeks. She flicked the paper at him and he watched as it fluttered soundlessly to the ground.

 

“Next time, do actually  _ try,  _ would you?” 

 

And then he went rolling  down the hill with a shriek, the same as the samurai before him.

 

She tugged on Byakuya’s sleeve, a grin still wide on his face, and pinched a feather between her fingers. He wasn’t too far behind, and they took to the sky, leaving a whirlwind and laughter in their wake. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and the wind that brushed through her hair and over her skin might have been a little warmer as they raced away into the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just like the idea of them being carefree assholes to each other while also doing crime. Tbh i only meant for them to do the crime part and then run away and then get on to some deeper  stuff, but again, another several hundred words later and this is what happened, but! I do have the final chapters of this arc mostly drafted, i just need to finish fleshing them out


	19. II. Incense

They flew through the night and well into the next morning, letting the winds pull them were they wished, having no purpose or direction and free to do as they pleased. What was left unsaid between them: Byakuya's joy for his return had manifested in a manic desire to fly. And Kagura certainly couldn't begrudge him that.

 

She kept up with him briefly, through the first night, and then she let him go, spotting him every so often, just a speck above the horizon. The second night, she decided that she would rest on her own, finding a sturdy bough of a tree to spend the night and early morning. She didn’t sleep, but the winds kept her aware of where he was, and when the morning did come, it was easy to find and drift alongside him again.

 

A mountainside outcropping was a good enough place to spend the next few days, and she set herself up nicely; a few stolen apples and reed curtains to lay against the rocks. It had warmed enough that she didn't need them for the chill, but the small comfort they provided more than made up for the effort to get them.

 

When Byakuya had finally exhausted himself, he found her, landed silently on his toes at the edge of her narrow little cliff and acknowledged her with a small wave, while Kagura only gave him a stiff nod. As entertaining as their little excursion in the city had been, she didn't need him thinking they were  _ friends _ .

 

Of course, there was still a nagging suspicion in the back of her mind saying that this could all be some elaborate trap, but she'd decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. She’d received her fair share of suspicious glances when she’d appeared in the aftermath of that final battle, but then again she’d had a known history of being disloyal, while Byakuya… well, she didn’t know much about him at all. She had briefly entertained the thought of going to someone who  _ would, _ but quickly shook it from her head. She could figure it out for herself.

 

For his part, he seemed to trust her well enough. Maybe whatever Naraku had told him of her had cast her as inconsequential; he’d simply known her as the disloyal and disposed of lackey, no threat to him beyond Naraku’s death. Which, she supposed, was true enough. So long as he  _ was  _ dead, Byakuya was nothing more than someone tangled up in the same mess she was. 

 

And that made them something like compatriots. Which was an odd thought, considering how little she'd cared for the rest of them. Besides Kanna (who'd had nothing tangible about her to hate in the first place) they'd all been some form of deplorable.

 

But, as they faced the setting sun and Byakuya threw himself against a rock, relaxing with his arm behind his head, she figured that she’d hold off on taking it until he gave her a reason to. It  _ had  _ been his pick pocketing that had gotten her new clothes, after all. She could be gracious. When she wanted to.

 

It was silent for a while, as the sky changed from blue to pink to orange. What would they even talk about? Nothing that she would want to discuss, just scabs that hadn’t quite healed yet and would sting just as much to pick. But― 

 

“How did you come back?”

 

Well, he wanted to get right to it then.

 

Kagura angled her chin so she could see him from the corner of her eye as she thought it over. He wasn’t looking at her, his gaze still watching the rapidly vanishing sun. She wasn’t sure who his apparent indifference was meant for. 

 

The words struggled on her tongue, it didn’t much matter what she told him. There was still something in her whispering that she needed to keep her secrets to herself, to hold everything as close to her chest as she could. But then again, there wasn’t much of a secret to keep…

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Byakuya turned to look at her. “You don’t  _ know _ ?”

 

“I said what I said,” she snapped, and crossed her arms tighter over her chest.

 

“Oi, don’t get upset with  _ me,”  _ he hummed, “you’re the one who was accusing me of some conspiracy. How do I know it’s not  _ you  _ who’s got some ulterior motive?”

 

“ _ Me?”  _ She couldn’t help the bark of laughter that erupted from deep in her chest. “I’ve done this already. Besides, I was long gone by the time you came around, but you still knew I wasn’t loyal. What would be the point of bringing me back?”

 

He shrugged.

 

“You know, I was just thinking that I  _ wouldn’t  _ try to kill you anymore,” she said, opening her fan to hide her face, “I’ve got no reason to believe that you ain’t playing a long game.”

 

There was a moment, where she thought he might actually shout at her, his expression darkening like a storm cloud just before a crack of lightning. But then it passed just as quickly, and he turned away from her with a snort.

 

“You weren’t the only one who wanted out,” he said softly, “I just knew better.”

 

“Knew better than  _ what?”  _ she hissed. If he meant― 

 

“We weren’t meant to outlive him.”

 

Kagura bit her tongue.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

His jaw clenched when he turned to look at her and then just as quickly looked away. Whatever he'd seen  in her face had him opening his mouth: “We were apart of him, the same as any limb. Conscious or not, we were supposed to die right along with him.”

 

“Is that what he told you?” She sneered. Naraku always lied.

 

“I didn’t really  _ believe  _ it,” he shot back, “not until…”

 

Kagura kept her fan steady as he struggled to find the words.

 

“I felt it,” he finally said with a heavy sigh. He flexed his fingers in front of his face. “I’d fallen into the meidou, and thought that was it for me, but then… it was  _ cold _ , like drowning, and I knew it was loss, but it passed and…” he took a deep breath, “I knew I was still alive.”

 

There’d been those disorientating,  _ dizzying  _ moments, between wakefulness and sleep, when her eyes had still been too new to focus, but there’d been the same kind of instinctual knowledge. Something had happened, she hadn’t known what, or the extent of its magnitude, only that she had felt complete in a way she hadn’t in a long time; and that hadn’t been just because of her reformation.

 

“Was it the same for you?”

 

She snorted. “Didn’t have much of a body to notice,” she said, but then at his dull stare she amended: “I reformed right where he’d died, was a little too disoriented with gettin’ all of my senses back at once.” And by other things, but she wasn’t about to share that with him.

 

“What, so you just turned up right in the middle of his corpse?” He looked properly disgusted by that possibility.

 

“ _ No,”  _ she snapped, “there wasn’t nothin’ left of him by then. Thankfully.”

 

"How did you know he was dead then?"

 

She pursed her lips. "Don't ask dumb questions."

 

"Oi," he barked out with a laugh, "how was that―?"

 

"You said you knew cause you had a ' _ feeling',"  _ she hissed back, "so don't ask stupid questions about how  _ I _ knew."

 

His face lit up with amusement, his eyebrows lifting into his hairline and a smirk tugging at his lips. "No need to get upset."

 

" _ I'm not―"  _ She snapped her mouth shut after a closer look at his face. With a huff she rolled her eyes and turned away. "Don't fuck with me."

 

"But you're so easy to fuck with," he said with a chuckle. "Wound up tight like you've still got something to lose. I would think being one with the wind would mean you'd be a little more…  _ easy breezy _ ."

 

" _ Ha. Ha."  _ She leveled a dull stare at him. "Very funny. Did he need a clown to amuse him? At least that would explain your appearance."

 

"Why? Cause I look like you?"

 

Her mouth fell open dumbly and her breath caught in her throat for just long enough to be noticeable. She blinked at him, her thoughts scattered and unfocused until all she could do was turn away from him with a grumble.

 

It wasn't the words themselves, or what he seemed to mean by them, it was that, if he  _ was _ meant to be like her then― 

 

"Touched a nerve?"

 

"Shut up," she spat and picked a particularly bright and twinkling star just above the horizon to focus on.

 

"Whatever." He shrugged. "It ain't like  _ I  _ care. I'm just trying to figure out your deal."

 

"My deal? What about your deal? According to you, you should be dead, the same as him. Especially since you supposedly felt it and all."

 

"And so should you, but instead you're here playing errand girl for some god. Why?"

 

She sucked in a breath. "What does it matter? You didn't seem all that opposed to it."

 

"That's because I see the benefit in having connections," he said, "besides, what else was I gonna' do? Go pester those simpering fools again for a laugh? No thanks, I like my head where it is."

 

"So you're worried you'll get bored?" She mocked, clinging to that one little comment. A change in subject was good, meant she didn't have to choose her words too carefully. "I'm sure Inuyasha would be more than happy to give you a job cleaning up their little village, consider it community service."

 

Byakuya scowled, though the look was less than menacing. "Is that what  _ you  _ had to do?"

 

"No," she said cheerily, "they threw flower petals at my feet and paraded me through the streets as their messiah, a champion, really. I hear they're building a shrine in my name."

 

Byakuya snorted. "Mhm, and I'm sure that was  _ after  _ they tried to take your head from your shoulders? I'm guessing the shrine is on layaway until they have their cursed item to seal up and pray to."

 

"He must have truly had you doing the grunt work if they were that much of a threat to you," she crooned, "couldn't handle a little hanyou and his human friends?"

 

"Oh no, that little group was nothing, pitiful little idiots with their hearts on their sleeves." Kagura nodded avidly in agreement. "I was more worried about the other one, never did a thing to him, yet his sword was always at my neck."

 

He couldn’t mean… and if he did, that was interesting. She decided not to press it and Byakuya didn’t offer anything else, for which she was grateful.

 

“Well, when this nonsense is all done, I’m sure you can go on your merry way and go back to having your life constantly threatened,” she chuckled, “a return to the norm, wouldn’t you say?”

 

“Ah, yes, I do miss a good chase,” he said sardonically and rolled his eyes, “I survived in hell and you think I’m going to back to looking for trouble.”

 

“So long as you bat your eyes and make yourself pitiful, they’ll leave you be.”

 

Byakuya kept his mouth shut, but she felt his gaze needling the side of her face. She let it go, but after several quiet minutes, she snapped.

 

“What?”

 

He raised a brow. “You know, you never told me what exactly you did to get yourself killed.”

 

“What’s it matter to you?” Kagura kept her eyes and her voice steady.

 

“Nothing, I’m only curious, I was only ever told you hadn’t been loyal, but that’s not exactly descriptive is it?”

 

No, but she was sure there had been several things that even Naraku hadn’t known about. Attacking him herself, escaping and asking Sesshoumaru to kill him, giving Inuyasha and his friends information, attacking Hakudoushi, leading Sesshoumaru to the boundary, conspiring with Kohaku, giving Sesshoumaru the Fuyouheki, attempting to find the baby, leading Inuyasha to Naraku, conspiring with Moryoumaru, saving Kohaku…

 

“I tried to help them,” she finally said, a little reluctantly.

 

“Oh? How kind of you.”

 

“Fuck you, I didn’t do it for  _ them. ” _ Well, not until the end, and that had only been because of… “It’s not like I was doing it out of the goodness of my heart, I wanted out and figured that if not them, then he could kill Naraku, or atleast―.”

 

Byakuya blinked. “ _ He?” _

 

Fuck.

 

“Who’s he?” Byakuya pressed, a teasing lilt in his voice as Kagura looked away.

 

“The one who was always trying to take your head off.”

 

Byakuya was silent a moment before a laugh burst from his lips, and she snapped her head back to glare at him. “You tried helping  _ him?  _ Well, at least that explains why he was always trying to kill me!”

 

“I would say that had more to do with your attitude than anything I ever did,” she hissed, “he was nothing but cordial whenever we met.” Not entirely true, but Byakuya certainly didn’t need to know that. His face lit up and he tilted his head.

 

“Is that so?” he asked, biting his lip to control a smirk.

 

“Yes, it is,” she huffed, “must’ve just been your attitude that…” a closer look at his face had the words dying on her tongue. “ _ No.” _

 

His grin widened, white teeth positively luminous in the starlight. “I think yes.”

 

“No, I―” Flustered, her tongue fumbled.

 

“He does have a fine face,” Byakuya tittered, throwing his head back with a laugh. “I’ve no reason to judge you for it.”

 

Kagura sniffed derisively, ignoring his chuckles. Denying it would get her nowhere and an admission would be even worse, so she opted for silence instead. 

 

“Won’t you regale me with the tale? I’m sure it’s one for the ages.” He was trying to muffle his laughter, just not doing a very good job at it, if he was truly trying at all. “Were you the damsel in distress and he the dashing prince?”

 

“Shut up, no he―” Her finger had nearly torn a hole in her sleeve, with the way she was fiddling with it. “He told me to fuck off, if it makes you feel better.” But then he’d saved her from the river, and hidden her deceit from Moryoumaru, and been there when she’d… he hadn’t ran his claws through her chest when she’d dared to touch him the last time they’d spoken, but…

 

“That sounds about right,” he hummed, “and that’s what got you killed?”

 

“ _ No _ , it got me locked in a dungeon for a week.”

 

“... _ huh _ .” 

 

Heat spread along her shoulders, and curiosity had her turning to look at him. She didn’t need his fucking pity. If he knew it then fine. Naraku had always been a monster, that little tidbit shouldn’t come as a surprise, but if he looked at her any differently… But he wasn’t. Byakuya’s mouth had gone soft, the smile gone, but a pensive look on his face as he stared out over the stars, the corners of his lips pulled down just a little and his brows pulled together in the center. Slowly, he turned to look at her.

 

“He didn’t have dungeons by the time I came along,” he said, “more of a vagrant living in dusty old caves.”

 

Kagura blinked and then let out a snort. “A pity, the castles above them had quite good food. And an over abundance of clothes. The decor was pretty nice.”

 

The grin returned. “I missed out then, who knew the life of an incarnation could be so glamorous?”

 

A chuckle bubbled in her throat, she tried to hide it with her sleeve, but a glance at him told her that he’d noticed. His grin softened into a soft smile, and Kagura decided that maybe it wasn’t so bad.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the night went silently, and they left for Ise in the morning. By the time they arrived Takahiko was quick to greet them at the city's boundary. And he only had words for Byakuya. 

 

The bird pulled him aside with a few whispered words, and when she tried to get near them, she was greeted by a fairly impressive dirty look on his part. But that was fine. She didn't care much for the crane anyway.

 

She was a little surprised, though, when the pair took to the sky. She watched them go, Takahiko shouting a simple “we’ll be back soon” over his shoulder while Byakuya glanced at her. Kagura didn’t want to wonder at his expression, his eyes clouded with what looked like it could be guilt as they left her standing alone in the middle of the forest.

 

She stared until they were nothing more than specks against the blue sky, and then with a huff turned away.

 

* * *

 

When she did find Fuujin―or more like when he found her―it was more than a little unwelcome. She had set herself at the river’s edge, her feet dangling in the clear water, and quite enjoying the solitude.

 

“How’s it going with your brother?”

 

She couldn’t help the sneer that pulled her mouth down as her head snapped up to him, incredulous.

 

“Don’t call him that,” she snapped, maybe a little too harshly. She swallowed, and tried to soothe it with: “How did you find out?”

 

The god let out a hearty chuckle, his fangs glinting in the dim sunlight, shadows of leaves overhead flickering over his face and a pipe pinched between his teeth. “Was it a secret? Even if it wasn’t obvious, it’s my business to know, isn’t it?”

 

“Did the  _ wind  _ tell you?” she asked, holding back the hiss in her voice.

 

“Something like that.”

 

Kagura turned away with a frown.

 

"Don’t make such a mean face, we all have sibling troubles,” he said, his grin widening, “though I suppose for some of us it’s a bit different than others.”

 

She  _ really  _ didn’t want to know what he meant.

 

“You didn’t tell me what you made of hell.” 

 

What sort of question was that? Hell was hell. She told him so.

 

“Ah, that is true,” he said, “but you didn’t run off screaming the first chance you got, so I suppose it can’t have been so terrible, you’re still seeing this til the end.”

 

If he wanted to test her patience, he was certainly doing a good job of it. Seeing all this nonsense through was only born from a sick curiosity and the fear that crawled along the back of her neck whenever she remembered Fuujin’s power, or that chill she’d felt around Susano-o. Besides, Fuujin himself had made her promises, and if things went as they should, she had more to gain than lose.

 

“I survived hell,” Kagura finally said, “you haven’t told us what’s in store tomorrow, but I can’t imagine it’ll be any worse than that.”

 

“No.” Smoke billowed from between his teeth, and his lips stretched into a wicked grin, the twinkle in his eyes nothing less than malicious. An expression hard to reconcile with his attitude. “You’ve nothing to fear from me.”

 

Kagura bit the inside of her cheek and turned away, unsure how much belief she could place in such hollow words.

 

* * *

 

Fuujin didn’t stay too long after that, whether because he was uncomfortable with her silence or because he truly had more pressing matters to attend to, he bid her farewell and left her to pick at the hem of her sleeve by herself.

 

Kagura decided to make herself comfortable, as much as she could; she found a nice little patch of flat ground near the river, with a more than suitable snarl of roots for her to sit on. She would have started a fire, but she didn’t need the warmth, with the air as humid as it was, and the moonlight dancing off the water’s surface was more than enough entertainment for her wandering mind.

 

Even in the darkness, she felt Takahiko’s shadow as the pair passed over her head. She decided not to acknowledge them even when Byakuya landed silently beside her. But after a moment she did chance a glance up at him, the crane nowhere in sight. She had only meant it to be a glance, but the sour look on his face made her pause.

 

“What?”

 

He seemed to struggle a moment before opening his mouth.

 

“That Fuujin is lying to you.”

 

“Hn?”

 

He took a few steps forward and dropped something in her lap, not very heavy, flat and wrapped in cotton cloth. She shot a glare up at him through her lashes before she tugged at the wrapping, it fell away smoothly from the disk it protected, and her heart stuttered painfully.

 

“That’s what he sent me to get,” he said, leaning back against the trunk of a tree. “I don’t think he wanted you to know.”

 

No. He would have told her otherwise, or made her go with him.

 

“Did you bring it to him yet?” Her voice was hardly above a whisper.

 

“No, I thought I should tell you before I did.”

 

“Did he tell you why?”

 

Byakuya shook his head. Kagura ghosted a thumb over the ivory, so smooth it was white even in the firelight. She hadn’t thought that it would matter, but now, with it in her arms, she felt hollow. It  _ shouldn’t  _ matter.

 

“Were you close?”

 

Kagura lifted her chin to look at him. “None of us were, and her especially…”

 

He shrugged and looked away beyond the firelight. Maybe being the last had been lonesome, and she pitied him for it, but she could have done without most of her “siblings”.

 

With a sigh, she handed the empty mirror back to him. She should have been angry, for the god’s attempt at secrecy, for the fact that the damn thing was necessary at all, or for the mess that she’d gotten herself involved in. But all she felt was a numb sensation, blood pumping slowly beneath her skin and leaving tingling pin pricks in its wake. The spark of curiosity she’d had earlier, for the solstice and whatever it brought with it, effectively smothered. She was tired.

 

“It can steal souls,” she said, unsure if that was news to him, “maybe he thinks he’ll be able to get his nephew that way.”

 

The fire popped, and Byakuya merely nodded once.

 

“You trust him?”

 

She gave a half hearted shrug. “I don’t know what to think, the other gods I’ve met ain’t exactly the forthcoming type either, so maybe it’s just their way.”

 

What else were they supposed to do? She could run, though Fuujin had warned her of the danger, that had been the threat of other gods, not him, and hadn’t she already tried to make up for the mistake by going to hell? Byakuya certainly had less to lose, Fuujin hadn’t given him any ultimatums. Without Naraku, neither of them had a purpose.

 

“What are you going to do?”

 

He grimaced, sliding down the trunk of the tree until he sat cross legged at its base. He sighed and then finally said: “What else can I do? I’m not stupid. I felt that god’s power when he threw me into the lake. I  _ did  _ try fighting back, you know.”

 

Kagura kept her eyes glued to the stars, she had tried that, too, but Fuujin’s power was leagues above her own. Whatever he had done to Byakuya couldn’t have been much different, and she couldn’t fault him for seeing things through out of fear, it sounded like at least that aspect of his personality hadn’t changed after Naraku’s death. A trait they most definitely shared.

 

“I’m only saying we should be careful.” His lip quirked into a grin as he glanced at her. “We are the closest thing to family we’ve got, aren’t we?”

 

She didn’t return his smile. Instead she shrugged herself deeper into the roots of the tree, and shut her eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I hate this chapter? Yes. Has is it been properly edited? No. Did it need to be posted? Yes. Summer Solstice is next chapter and that’s all I have to say about that.


	20. II. Solstice

“... _ Oi _ .”

 

_ No. _

 

“ _ Oi!  _ I know you’re enjoying your beauty rest…”

 

Something nudged her foot, not roughly enough to startle her awake, but enough to make her flinch and force her eyes open.

 

“It’s already well past sunrise.”

 

Kagura blinked rapidly and reached a hand up to rub at her eyes. She had to squint against the bright morning light to glare at Byakuya and had to wrench her neck over her shoulder, she’d curled herself into the roots so deeply during the night. She grimaced.

 

“How long was I…?”

 

Byakuya stood up straight, and she could faintly make out the outline of Kanna’s mirror tucked into the split of his furisode, just above his belt. Sun filtered through the leaves above, leaving his eyes in a flickering shadow, but setting the red of his lips aflame. He cocked his head to the side with a shrug.

 

“Most of the night, figured I’d be nice enough not to bother you―” Kagura rolled her eyes, he responded with a sly smirk, “―but the bird is starting to get anxious.”

 

He gestured over his shoulder with his chin, and sure enough, when she leaned over to see, Takahiko was perched on a stone on the other side of the river, watching them.

 

“What does he―” she cut herself off with a groan. It didn’t matter, the damn crane was just being obnoxious as always. Kagura rolled her shoulders, shaking off the sleep and flexing her feet and she untangled herself from the roots.

 

“I didn’t ask,” Byakuya said, “told him to fuck off til you woke up and he decided to go sit pretty over there. It is starting to get late, though.”

 

“How kind of you,” she said, pulling herself to her feet. She refrained from shooting Takahiko with a rude gesture, instead stretching her arms above her head and picking her way towards the water’s edge.

 

“You seemed like you needed it, and besides, who am I to go breaking that trust?”

 

She turned over her shoulder, glaring at him from the corner of her eye. “Lapse in judgement, won’t happen again.”

 

She heard him chuckle as she crouched on the bank, scooping water into her palms and splashing it across her face, scrubbing at her skin and wiping away the last remnants of sleep and yesterday’s makeup. She dried her face with the inside of her sleeve, making sure no color stained the fabric before reaching into her collar for the compact of rouge and applying it to her face, not caring much how precise she was. Byakuya stepped up beside her, and without thinking, she handed him the compact. Only once he’d taken it did she blink and wonder why she’d given it to him at all.

 

“Did you?” 

 

“Did I what?” he parroted, smearing the color across his lips with his pinky, the compact pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

 

“Sleep.”

 

He shrugged and snapped the compact shut before handing it back to her. “A few hours, first real sleep I’ve had in awhile…”

 

Kagura stood, shooting Takahiko a glare as he stretched his wings and glided across the water towards them, his feathers looking significantly worse. She wondered at how he still flew, with several quills sticking out at odd angles across his wings, the white having changed to a sickly gray.

 

“I take it you slept well?” he asked as he landed, stumbling a bit on his spindly legs. He said it politely, but she could sense the undertone of derision.

 

“Like a baby,” she mocked.

 

“Good,” he angled his head at Byakuya, “we will need to leave soon, or else it’ll be too late in the day. Fuujin-sama is already waiting.” She fought the urge to roll her eyes, even as the crane gestured for them to follow him into the air and towards the shrine.

 

“We will need a little discretion,” he called back. She and Byakuya made eye contact, and with a sigh he flicked his wrist, bringing a shroud down over them. It didn’t hide him or the crane from her, but when she looked down at the ground below there was the distinct lack of any shadow.

 

Takahiko led them, his trajectory a little warped given his broken feathers. They flew above the city, the humans below unaware of what passed over them. Only when the crane led them down, close to the ground in order to pass through the torii that bracketed the bridge over the river, they flew so quickly that several of the humans battered by the gust they left in their wake nearly tumbled off the railing, having to duck and brace themselves against the pillars and gasping. If it was any other time she might have laughed at their plight, but Kagura kept her eyes glued to the back of the crane’s head, stuck on a particularly ruffled and decrepit feather.

 

Up the path and through more scattered humans, she wondered why bother at the pretense of going through the gates, but as they turned a corner, and the grand shrine’s door appeared from behind the trees, she supposed there was a certain beauty in it. The greenery of the forest and the cedar smell of the year old shrines as they flickered between the trees; cooling mist and electric pinpricks of holy power dancing along her skin. Byakuya took it well enough, if he was surprised at all by the sensation. They raced up the path to the grand shrine, through the gate and up the steps. It wasn’t until the last second, when the thick oak doors that hid the shrine burst open to allow them through without even the barest surprise from the humans making their way up.

 

The door slammed shut behind them as they stepped down onto the brick pathway. Heat wafted off the stones, warming the soles of her feet. She had to blink several times before she even noticed Fuujin’s hulking mass reclining in the shade of a tree near the corner of the wall, his head propped up in his palm. 

 

She felt Byakuya’s stare and met his eyes for the briefest second, schooling her face into neutrality she turned back to the green god.

 

“A fine day, isn’t it?” Fuujin drawled. “You both look well.”

 

If not for last night she might have dismissed his comment as nothing more than trivial, but the way he said it set her on edge. They both kept their mouths shut, and if Fuujin noticed or cared at all for their silence he didn’t mention it.

 

“Did you bring it?”

 

Byakuya stepped forward and pulled the swaddled mirror from inside his lapel, brandishing it in the light for the god to see. A grin stretched Fuujin’s cheeks and he waved his hand, silently asking Byakuya to bring it to him. When he did, the god pulled it from its binding, holding it above his head to inspect it in the sunlight, the ivory nearly glowing gold. After a moment of twirling it in his hand he handed it back.

 

“Still in decent enough shape, considering,” he said with a chuckle, “do you see that basin over there?” Fuujin pointed a finger over their shoulder’s, gesturing to the pavillion that held the chozuuya, carved from a solid hunk of stone and bubbling with water from a nearby spring. “It needs to be cleansed, make sure you clean your face and hands, your mouth, too. The both of you.”

 

They both stepped back, following his instructions slowly. Kagura was the first, grabbing hold of one of the ladles and spilling the water over the mirror’s edge when Byakuya held it out to her. Fuujin and the bird watched, making her skin itch almost painfully. She rinsed her hands and poured the water into a cupped palm, sipping it and swirling it in her mouth before spitting it out. 

 

She took the mirror from him when he held it out again, and met his eyes when he didn’t release it right away. His brows creased in the center, and his mouth pulled down into the barest of frowns. Kagura quirked a brow at him and he took a breath and turned his head away from the two holy beings, keeping his voice low.

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

Despite herself, she kept his gaze, remembered his warmth down in hell. 

 

“I do. And you?”

 

“Be a fool not to.”

 

He released the mirror and she nodded, watching as he spilled the water over his hand and rubbed whatever was left across his face.

 

“When you’ve finished with yourselves, fill the mirror again,” Fuujin called. 

 

Kagura resisted the urge to snap at him.  _ Fill the mirror?  _ What sort of nonsense―? And why wasn’t  _ he  _ doing it if it was so important? He was the  _ god,  _ after all _.  _ For fuck’s sake. She and Byakuya exchanged a glance, but he shook his head, so with a huff she grabbed the ladle again, scooping up the holy water and spilling it into the mirror’s empty hollow. The water bubbled until it completely filled it, as little as it was, and she turned back to Fuujin who looked nonplussed about the whole thing.

 

“Bring it inside,” he said, and pointed towards the final inner door of the grand shrine, “be careful not to spill.”

 

Kagura did as she was asked, holding the mirror flat in front of her chest so as to keep as much liquid as she could on the surface. She turned back to Fuujin, who simply wagged his finger towards the shrine again.

 

“Place it on the altar when you get inside, then… well I suppose you’ll figure out the rest.”

 

Another wary glance at Byakuya as they both turned to go. He held the door for her, the hinges screeching painfully as it swung open, surprising him with its weight. They stepped inside and it slammed shut with such a thundering finality that a chill ran up her spine, her shiver barely contained by the humid heat of the courtyard. White stones shifted and clacked beneath her feet, nearly blinding as they glittered in the bright sunlight, beaming directly over their heads. Kagura looked up, squinting, hadn’t it only been mid-morning when they’d arrived...?

 

She took a breath, and the air that filled her lungs carried the sickly sweet scent of sunflowers and cedar, carried on a cool breeze. The tension in her shoulders relaxed minutely, and she had to tighten her grip on the mirror so as not to drop it when the sensation traveled all the way down to her hands.

 

Byakuya stepped around her, his eyes darting around the yard before finally landing on the sun god’s shrine. Larger than that of the wind god’s, though just as sparsely ornamented. The fresh cedar wood and the reeds on the roof were a warm gold in the light, a smooth sheen coating the planks that glittered nearly as brightly as the stones under their feet. Byakuya turned to look at her over his empty shoulder, his chest heaving with a deep inhale.

 

“We could leave,” she said, holding the mirror out between them, the thin pool of water nearly sloshing over the edge as she did. “I could just throw it inside, take off…”

 

“That what you wanna’ do?” he snorted, “he’d catch us, and even still…” He twirled his fingers in front of his face, and it seemed like even his skin had begun to take on that golden glow.

 

“...It’s calm.”

 

He nodded once, his lips pursed and his gaze fixed on his hand.

 

“Let’s just get this over with,” she growled, shoving past him as carefully as she could. He snapped out of his daze and followed after her underneath the covered path. He stepped ahead and opened the first door to allow her up the stairs, and then did the same at the top, pausing for the briefest second until Kagura nodded and he slid the door open with hardly a clatter.

 

Inside, darkness, the light from the open door stretching their shadows across the floor and the back wall, the smell of fresh cut wood hitting them squarely in the face. Kagura was the first to step inside, gingerly moving her feet across the floor, listening for even the slightest creak or snap. 

 

The altar in the center held an empty stand, just the perfect size for… Kagura looked down at the mirror in her hands, the water it held silvery even in the darkness; she stepped up and slammed it down on the pedestal, droplets spattering the wood and creating a white sheen.

 

“I don’t like this.” She stepped back quickly, her eyes stuck on the mirror, she bumped Byakuya’s shoulder. “Fuck this, we should―”

 

There was a hissing sound, a rasping breath of air, barely audible, but they both froze, their eyes darting across the shadows of the shrine, looking for anything amiss, so distracted they hardly noticed when the water that had splattered began to  _ move. _

 

Byakuya sucked in a breath first, unblinking as it turned silver, thick and crawling back towards the center of the mirror. Kagura fingered her fan, tucked in her obi, unsure what to expect from the viscous liquid as it swirled. Trying to  _ listen _ , but the wind had abandoned them, baked away by the burning sun just beyond the door. As the water completely filled the mirror, it began to clatter against the altar, rattling and quivering against the wood, until it was finally full again, the water as smooth and glowing just like glass as it lifted up off the altar and into the air, to hang suspended in front of the empty stand.

 

The mirror’s surface, now unmarred and perfectly round as it once had been, shone, sparkling in the reflected sunlight. They both held their breath, waiting for― 

 

A rumble, a low sound echoing from somewhere, and then the soft sound of a splash against the floorboards as something began to drip off the mirror’s surface. Black and oily, thick like tar and looking as sticky as ink. One, and then two, then three, and then a deluge, spilling from the world beyond the glass surface and gushing across the floor. They both jumped back, gasping and slamming themselves against the walls to avoid the putrid river it spawned, as it tumbled down the steps and into the shrine’s yard.

 

They needed to get out, whatever was inside the mirror, it― 

 

But as she watched, it changed, the liquid gushing past her toes going from inky black to a muddy gray, until finally it cleared, turning glass clear and sparkling as it met the sunlight on the steps, nearly blinding in its intensity.

 

It sloshed, a wave rippling down, and when she looked up, there was something clinging to the edge, ten pale little  _ fingers _ gripping the mirrors frame from inside.

 

Frozen to the wall, air frozen in their lungs, they watched as hands followed, fisting around the frame, hands followed by pale arms, and then a downy white head squeezed through the mirror’s face, stemming the water and then tumbling to the floor on hands and knees, and― 

 

Kagura held back a scream as the girl took to her feet, wobbling on atrophied legs, she stumbled to the door, turning back to meet Kagura’s gaze as she stepped out into the light streaming through the doorway― 

 

_ Kanna. _

 

She slapped a hand over her chest as if something had stabbed her, a pain blossoming deep between her ribs. The girl stood, ankle deep in the weakening water, blank faced as always, moving her head between the two of them, her eyes unmoving. Her white hair, wet and clinging to her skull, dried rapidly under the heat of the sun, and as it did, took on a decidedly more golden hue; the color leaching from her roots to the ends of her hair as the water dripped off. After what felt like an eternity, suffering under that blank black gaze, she finally blinked, and when she opened her eyes, there was light reflected there, almost as clear and silvery as the mirror’s surface.

 

Kagura tried to school her breathing, her mind racing, unable to form a coherent thought, even when she looked up to Byakuya, who wore a similar expression: mouth agape and eyes wide. Their eyes met briefly, but then Kanna―no, this wasn’t, couldn’t be  _ Kanna― _ stepped forward.

 

She backed away as the mirror girl approached her, and flinched when she reached for Kagura’s hand, taking it in her own. Her skin was cool and smooth as glass, but Kagura let herself be led, fear and confusion trapping her inside the shrine’s walls, as not-Kanna reached for Byakuya’s hand next, pulling them together until all three of them stood before the mirror. Still suspended in the air in the center of the room, the deluge had slowed to a trickle, nothing more than a spring dribbling to the floor.

 

“You must drink,” the girl rasped, her voice hoarse but just as muted and cold as it had ever been. She pulled on both their hands, tugging them underneath the water. Their hands brushed, and Kagura wanted to flinch away, but the girl’s grip was surprisingly firm, and though she’d expected the water to be cold, it was surprisingly cool, soothing as it trickled over her skin.

“Drink,” she said again, though it held little authority. She turned their palms face up, and reluctantly Kagura cupped her palms, filling her hands and only then did the girl let her pull away. Byakuya had a much harder time of it, with only one hand he had hardly more than a few drops worth in his palm. He gave not-Kanna's visage a wary glance.

 

"It is enough," she said, and reluctantly they both took her for her word.

 

The water was cool in her palms, hardly a ripple marring the surface, as reflective as the mirror had been. But something about her reflection, something  _ off  _ about the eyes that looked back at her, had her looking up to Byakuya. His brows furrowed, he shared her look but then with a final glance at the mirror girl and a shake of his head, he held the water to his lips and drank.

 

A gust of wind yowled, thrashing inside the shrine’s confines, and Byakuya suddenly heaved, a rasping, hacking cough erupting from deep in his throat and doubling him over. He smacked his hand over his lips as he shuddered with the force of it and had to steady himself against the wall, his eyes scrunched shut and blood began to leak in the space between his fingers. 

 

"Bya―?" She felt frozen, not-Kanna was unperturbed, as dead eyed as she'd ever been, while a chill struck down Kagura's spine. She fell back, pressed herself against the wall and watched in horror as he hacked and coughed, the blood spilling from his hand and dripping to the floor to mix with the remnants of the water. After what seemed like several minutes, his back finally straightened, and he took several shuddering breaths, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, her met her gaze, but there was something different about those violet eyes… 

 

"Don’t worry," he said, waving a calming, blood spattered hand in her direction and trying to catch his breath, "...'s'alright."

 

She'd heard that, before, somewhere, hadn't she…? And then ice in her veins― 

 

" _ Not to worry. I will make things right." _

 

Her eyes went wide and her mouth gaped, her gaze snapping rapidly between not-Kanna and Byakuya, down at the distorted reflection she held between her palms. It couldn't,  _ she  _ couldn't―

 

No, no.  _ No! _

 

"Nee-chan?"

 

A scream drowned and died in her throat as she opened her hands, the water falling to the floorboards like so many shards of glass. No, no, she needed to get out, get away from here, away from  _ them,  _ out into the open sky where she could breath.

 

She stumbled in her escape, her heel catching on one of the shards, angled just right to draw blood and suddenly she couldn't see the doorway, just bright sunlight, a pain in her arm, and― 

 

_ "...Oi, nee-chan! Watch it or…!" _

 

Byakuya’s voice.

 

Her head ached as the stars behind her eyes faded, her momentum still carrying her forward, almost sending her tumbling head first down the steps. She flailed and had to grip the railing, each step down a hollow thunk against the wood.

 

_ "Fuujin!" _

 

She burst through the set of inner doors, sending them slamming against the wall with a splintering thud. This time he could not overpower her, her aim sure and true and headed straight for the wind god's head so quickly he had to duck.

 

"Oh, what’re you upset with me for―?"

 

Another wind blade and he rolled out of the way, his expression darkening.

 

"Careful now, Shina―"

 

"Don't you  _ fucking _ say it!" The wind roared along with her, furious as she, but she found that the third time she tried to call upon an attack, her winds were muted. "You lying son of a bitch! How  _ dare  _ you!"

 

It had been there, down in hell, when Izanami’s deafening screams had overwhelmed her, she just hadn’t been  _ listening. _

 

He’d mocked her name that night, weeks ago, what felt like an eternity now. 

 

_ “...Dear  _ Kagura.”  _ Kagura,  _ a dance for the gods.

 

_ “I told you, you’re the only one who can do it, didn’t I?” _

 

_ “I know you better than you think…” _

 

_ “...you could even say I’ve forgotten what my dear siblings look like…” _

 

_ “It’s  _ your fault! _ It’s always  _ your _ fault! If you―!” _

 

_ “Mama will be happy if you stay.” _

 

 “...  _ No! Shi―!” _

 

― _ Shinatobe.  _

 

“Ah.”

 

The urge to kill him, to tear his lying tongue from his fanged mouth, spill the innards from his great green belly. Her chest heaved with it, her breath coming out in sharp gasps. She wanted to hurt him, painfully so, her anger a tangible thing that burned deep in her bones and left her hands trembling, the back of her neck furiously hot.

 

"You wouldn't have done it if I'd told you," he said, holding a hand up between them. With some chagrin she noticed the way it trembled, a small consolation that the god was struggling to contain her fury. "You're stubborn, you've always been stubborn."

 

"You don't fucking know me!" Her voice cracked and she raised her hand to swing at him again, but her arm never came down. Instead her wrist snatched in a vice like grip, held aloft before the blade could form.

 

"Stop."

 

She met Byakuya's― _ not- _ Byakuya's calm stare. Blood still stained his chin, her breath caught in her throat before she regained herself and began to struggle, trying to snatch her arm free from his hold.

 

"Nee-chan, calm down."

 

The serenity of his voice made her fucking skin crawl.

 

"Let go of me!" Her struggle was futile, his grip unyielding until she rounded with her left arm, and punched him squarely in the jaw. "Don't fucking touch me!"

 

He stumbled back cradling his face as she shook off her sure to be bruised knuckles. When he looked back up at her, the lack of anger in his face was disturbing, and set her hands trembling.

 

"Don't touch me!" She hissed again, baring her teeth as he took a step towards her. She held her fan between them, the tip pointed straight as his chest. "And don't fucking call me that! Whoever the fuck you are now, I ain't your fucking sister!”

 

He nodded slowly, and she recognized the look on his face as being not quite defeat but something like acceptance. It  _ stung,  _ somewhere deep in her chest...

 

“Don’t fucking follow me.” It didn’t fucking matter. She yanked a feather from her hair, taking to the sky within the whirlwind it spawned. She felt his gaze burning the back of her neck and refused to look back.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ᕕ ( ᐛ ) ᕗ


	21. II. Something Wicked

Fuck pleasantries.

 

“You knew, didn’t you?!”

 

Her words went as unheeded as her crash landing had. The leaves and detritus she’d kicked up fell around her, a bit too gently for her liking.

 

“Oi, Shio!”

 

The witch slowly raised her eyes, looking unamused by her outburst, yet her hands did not stop their sewing.

 

“And what, exactly, did I know?”

 

She snarled. “Don’t fuck with me! You knew, about Ise, about―” 

 

_ Her  _ stalled on the tip of her tongue, suffocating. Shio closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh.

 

“You could say that I knew,” she said slowly, “I knew you were tied to the twins, somehow. I knew that something wasn’t right. Your aura was―is  _ still― _ off…” Shio set the fabric she was mending down in her lap and leveled narrowed eyes at her. “Two energies, that of a youkai and that of a god _ …  _ it’s conflicted, the two at odds with each other, though they’ve calmed somewhat…”

 

She shut her mouth and turned her head, her jaw working as she took a steadying breath. She aimed all her enmity at the ground beside her feet, her gaze falling on a jagged stone pillar that stuck straight up from the ground, covered in moss and lichen, and the barest hint of red― 

 

“There was nothing I could have done for you.”

 

With a stone in her gut, She lifted her head back up to face the witch.

 

“What did you find?”

 

Shio’s eyes bored into her, as black as the abyss of hell, and she suddenly felt very hollow.

 

“A dead woman,” she said, and was gone.

 

* * *

 

The wind was deafening now that she could hear. Whipping her face as she raced through the sky, begging her to stop, slow down, go back, to return to them.

 

She couldn’t sense Fuujin’s influence, or that of whatever the hell Byakuya was now, though she knew that that didn’t mean that they weren’t listening, or that their power might still be too strong for her senses.

 

_ Liar.  _

 

The wind goddess had never been missing. Gone, functionally dead, maybe, but never  _ missing.  _

 

Nor had she failed to bring back the wind god from hell. She’d found him, or he’d found her, because whatever bullshit had tied them together still hung there, invisible. Even now, she could sense him on the wind, the threads of his aura tickling her skin, a phantom presence hovering in the corner of her eye.

 

She didn’t know if it would have made a difference, had Fuujin told her that first night, if she would have accepted that fate when she’d had nothing else to lose besides her own boredom, her lackadaisy excuse for freedom. Would she have given that up for whatever Byakuya dealt with now? Whatever the hell Kanna even was? Was Byakuya…

 

Was Byakuya even  _ Byakuya  _ anymore?

 

The embrace that had pulled her from the chaos, all those months ago, that voice that had been so soothing… had been his. Or, not  _ Byakuya’s _ but… 

 

That had been Shinatsuhiko, hadn’t it?

 

It’s why he’d called her sister, familiarity in his tone and acceptance in his features when she’d punched him. Like he  _ knew  _ her. And that stung more than Fuujin’s duplicity.

 

She’d  _ trusted him.  _ A new thing, placing that much faith in someone. Neither of them had known, if Fuujin would be true to his word and keep them safe. She’d watched him drink first, apprehension had held her limbs frozen as the water had sliced up his throat, sharp as shards of glass. And he’d been worried for  _ her,  _ blood still dribbling down his chin, he’d tried to calm, to soothe. He must have seen that she hadn’t drank, but he still―hadn’t been angry when she’d hit him. 

 

He must know where she was, and yet he hadn’t come after her, just as she’d said. A blessing or a curse, she didn’t quite know.

 

The land below rushed by, trees and rivers blurred together. Her head ached. Foggy with her first memories, a dark and dank room deep in Hitomi Kagewaki’s castle, the cloying stink of the viscera and gore that had clung to her skin, sticky in her hair and between her fingers and… she’d vomited, or tried to. Tried to rid the viscous fluid that filled her mouth and stuck to her tongue. With nothing in her stomach, she’d heaved, her belly quivering as she’d pulled herself out of that damned jar, her grip slipping on the slick rim. Words hadn’t quite come to her yet, but she’d known she needed to get  _ out, get away.  _ And then something had touched her cheek, pulling her face up, her eyes unfocused but recognizing red eyes and a devilish grin.

 

“... _ glad to see you’re awake.” _

 

The whites of his teeth had been nearly blinding in the darkness.

 

“ _ I think I’ll name you Ka―” _

 

An insult. A spit in the face. An attempt to spite someone who was already dead. That’s all it had ever been, that name. Her eyes stung, and the wind was quick to whip away any evidence of tears, even when she waved her hand to shake it away. She didn’t need sympathy or coddling, though her chest ached, a sharp stabbing pain straight through her ribs. 

 

If Naraku had devoured the wind goddess, had spit out those leftover parts, that didn’t mean they were the same. The reflection she’d seen in the water hadn’t been hers, colors and angles all wrong, any trace of the goddess stripped away and replaced by a youkai who hadn’t even been able to save herself. 

 

A goddess who’d been killed by a lowly hanyou. An incarnation who’d laid down and died because she’d been too weak to― 

 

In the end, what was the difference?

 

At least she knew enough about one to content herself with it, but the other…

 

If the goddess had been that weak, what use was she? The incarnation had had no heart, no allies, her abilities leagues below the ones who came after her, and yet… she’d survived. Outlived her master. She’d made some semblance of a life for herself, made her own choices. She’d survived hell, literally and figuratively.

 

She had no use for a dead god.

 

And she didn’t want to think about what would become of her if she did.

 

So then, what? 

 

No doubt that he and Fuujin knew where she was, as fast as she flew that wouldn’t make a difference if either came looking for her. Even taken by surprise Fuujin had still been able to counter her power. If he did truly want his dearest niece back, it wouldn’t be a stretch for him to take drastic measures to do it.

 

Her sleeve flapped in the wind, heavy from the weight of her meager possessions, but something flickered in her memory. She pulled her hand into her sleeve, grasping for―there. Her fingers closed around the object, and she slipped her hand back out, brandishing it in the moonlight.

 

The cord Momiji had given her, a dull maroon in the dim light. They’d said they were headed for the main land. It wouldn’t matter, there was no one for her here, no one to miss her except― 

 

The wind erupted around her, yowling as it tried to pull her down. She fought against it, shielding her face as she tried to pull her feather out of the maelstrom to no avail. It overpowered her, sending her careening downwards into the dirt, she barely had enough time to brace herself to roll across cobblestone and catch herself on her feet.

 

She caught her breath just as she tried to catch her bearings. Stone bricks under her feet, a narrow path, and when she looked up she wanted to scream. Of course, a shrine, torches blazing before the altar, and Fuujin’s name emblazoned above the shimenawa.

 

Meddlesome son of a bitch. She searched her senses, and found that the god was still miles away.

 

“You fucking coward! Scared to face me?” A taunt, she knew, but the anger thundering in her veins didn’t care.

 

“ _ I thought you’d prefer it,”  _ Fuujin’s voice echoed around her, carried on the wind. “ _ At least you might listen.” _

 

“What do you want?!” Her fingers itched around the guard of her fan.

 

“ _ For you to come home,”  _ the wind whispered, “ _ we need you.” _

 

“I don’t  _ have  _ a home,” she spat. “And  _ I _ don’t need you.”

 

_ “Just come back so that we can talk―”  _

 

“You have nothing I want to hear,” she spat. His voice echoing around her was disorientating, and physically present or not, she would burn his little shrine to the ground and dance in the ashes if that would prove a point. 

 

“ _ Just come back.”  _ Didn’t he get sick of repeating himself?

 

“ _ I  _ don’t need to  _ do  _ anything.” 

 

“ _ You’re the only one who knows what happened.” _

 

“No,  _ I’m  _ not. And why do you think I care _? _ ” she seethed. “Whatever did happen doesn’t fucking concern me.”

 

“ _ Stop lying to yourself, come back and―” _

 

_ “ _ Shut the fuck up!” She didn’t want to hear any more of this. Her arm swung out, a wind blade slicing through the stone pillars that made up the torii gate, and then another cut through the roof tiles and the massive hemp shimenawa that hung from the shrine’s doorway. The torii toppled, stone grinding against stone as the pillars tilted and hit the ground with a thundering crash, kicking up dust in their wake. The shimenawa slipped from its bindings, the heavy ropes knocking the torches on either side from their poles and the fire quickly catching on the dry hemp.

 

“I’m not her!” she hissed as the flames spread, leaving ghosts of light in her eyes and smearing her vision.

 

“ _ Stop being childish. You have a responsibility―” _

 

She heard the twang of a bowstring, just as an arrow pierced the air just above her shoulder, hissing in her ear with a crackle of impotent holy power as she narrowly leaned away from it. Her arm moved before her mind, another razor thin blade peeling off the edge of her fan, vision still red with rage― 

 

“... _ Kagura!” _

 

Her eyes refocused just in time to see the miko fall.

 

The wind stopped and the girl crumpled like a puppet without strings; choking on air as blood spewed from the wound that had sliced her open from the crux of her neck down to her navel, severing her shoulder and splitting her ribs. Splintered white tips of bone stuck out from the rent flesh of the girl’s chest, heart and lungs still quivering beneath, struggling to function despite being so severely mutilated, blood still spurting from severed arteries. She hit the ground with a dull thud, splattering blood in a wide arc around, staining the dirt with a glimmering sheen that flickered in the firelight. The light shimmered across the surface of the viscera, spots of blood blossomed like so many crimson buds across the girl’s back, changing her kosode from pure white to a fiery red. 

 

She watched as pink froth formed in the girl’s mouth, spittle and more blood pouring over her cheek, mixing with the hair that already clung to her feverish and rapidly greying flesh. A final rasping, rumbling breath, and the girl went still; eyes open wide and staring up at her. Her eyes stuck on the girl’s empty gaze, the open mouth and the blood that continued to spill despite the lack of a heartbeat to pump it, simply emptying into the humid air. 

 

The wind held its breath.

 

If she was to be struck down now, then so be it. If the sky opened and the breath stolen from her lungs, then so be it. But the longer the corpse watched her, the seconds counted by every cotton thread stained with blood… nothing happened.

 

She should have been disgusted, should have recoiled from that empty gaze, should have felt the stirrings of guilt and panic; but the longer she stared, she only felt…

 

Nothing.

 

There was no horror weighing down her limbs, no tingle of terror shivering along her skin, there was no guilt churning in her gut. Her heart still beat a steady staccato behind her ribs, and her lungs still rose smoothly with every intake of air, her feet kept her firmly rooted to the ground. Her mind did not go blank with questions or curses. There was only morbid curiosity. 

 

A warm corpse, so different from the mountains she’d stumbled through in the underworld. The girl’s cheeks still held some color, the blood framing her hadn’t quite hardened yet, still a vibrant crimson staining the night. Beauty in death.

 

That’s what she’d been made for, hadn’t it?

 

A patchwork body, stitched together pieces of discarded youkai and the ghost of a goddess, branded with the mark of a spider and set loose into the world. Meant to do nothing but sow discord, an agent of chaos serving a malicious master who’d wanted for nothing but the suffering of others. She may not have been the most dutiful daughter, but she’d certainly perfected misery.

 

When Naraku had returned her heart out spite, he’d severed the chain that had bound her, but it had been his death that had finally broke the shackles. She pulled out the braid Momiji had given her from her sleeve, running her thumbs over the bumps and ridges that made up the interwoven threads. Regardless of whether she’d made the most of it...

 

A heart she’d only just gotten. A life she’d only just begun.

 

“I’m not like you.”

 

She burnt the cord.


	22. II. God's Will

The breeze wafting off the sea was different, the threads of air carried an unfamiliar scent, an unknown she didn’t quite have the language for. The mainland, Kagura knew, a whole other world beyond that shoreline. 

 

“Is everything ready to go or what?” Behind her, Momiji’s voice was grating, a trilling inflection when she called to others, the two men inside the carriage making sure everything was secured enough to fly. The whole thing trembled with every movement they made, and Kagura wasn’t sure if it had been the best idea to have them working on it. Momiji caught her gaze when she turned to look over her shoulder for what must have been the tenth time.

 

“Not homesick already, are you?” The oni’s voice purred in her ear when Kagura turned back around. A little too closely for her liking, but Kagura stood her ground. 

 

“No,” she said, “the sooner we get off this island the better.”

 

“Oh, I agree!” The oni yawned, stretching her arms over her head. “It’s been so long since I’ve gone back, but it’s sure to be lovely. I know you’ll just have the best time.”

 

Kagura hummed in affirmation. It wasn’t the first time she’d been told something similar. The oni had been ecstatic when they’d finally met again, cooing and purring at her and waxing poetic about how beautiful the sights were, and hearing the oni tell her tales that may have all been the same if she really cared to listen. And through all of that, her grating and fried voice, the oni saw fit to keep reminding her how much she’d enjoy it, as if she might change her mind. Most likely it didn’t help that she’d been a little less than happy to see them, but she didn’t care what kind of time she would have, she just needed to get away from the breeze pulling at her sleeves. 

 

“We’ll absolutely have to visit the Dragon King’s palace, though that might be on the way back, oh, I know the perfect little place to―” Kagura hummed and “is that so”ed right along with Momiji’s babbling, not really processing the information as she chronicled all the fantastical things she’d seen on her travels to the mainland and how wondrous it all was. It wasn’t as if  traveling the world didn’t sound appealing, she simply had more pressing matters to concern herself with.

 

A shadow crossed Kagura’s vision, blotting out the sun for the briefest second. She shielded her eyes from the light as she looked up, but Momiji was quicker, interrupting her own monologuing.

 

“What’s a crane doing out at sea?”

 

The muscle of her cheek popped as Kagura clenched her jaw. Her eyes glued to white feathers that gleamed in the sunlight, glittering and sparkling and oh so perfectly groomed. 

 

_ Speak of the devil.  _ She had half a mind to shoot him out of the sky, but she took a deep breath and when she inhaled there was warmth in the breeze. The bird flew several loops above their heads before finally descending into the forest a few hundred feet up the hill behind them. Kagura turned her head to look over her shoulder, upwind, and there, just within the tree line… 

 

“I’ll be right back.”

 

She’d purposefully ignored his presence, that he’d been edging closer and closer the last few days, but now she supposed she didn’t have much choice. But still, she took her time, and was glad to see that he retreated into the shadows of the forest at her approach. She made her way up the hill and tried her damndest to make it  _ very  _ obvious how she felt about the little farewell party with every heavy step. She let out the smallest breath of relief when the green god was nowhere to be seen, his aura faint on the breeze. Which only left three figures standing there in the shadows, a man, a girl, and a fucking bird.

 

Bya―Shinatsuhiko, whoever―gave her a warm smile when she was within the treeline, and she responded by crossing her arms and throwing her shoulders against the trunk of a tree. The girl who’d-once-been-Kanna’s eyes flickered to her, but her face remained neutral and she said nothing, and the crane looked as cantankerous as usual. The man opened his mouth, but she wasn’t going to let him monopolize this.

 

“Did Fuujin send you?” 

 

The smile faltered just a little when he exhaled sharply. He shook his head. 

 

“Didn’t like the little  _ offering  _ I left him?” she spat.

 

The crane looked disgusted and the girl had no expression at all, but the man merely sighed.

 

“Humans die in storms all the time,” he said, a little callously. But there was something… His voice was different, a calmer lilt to it, not the typical teasing tone she’d grown used to. “I didn’t come here to scold or punish you, if that’s what you’re thinking. We’ve both done our fair share of questionable things.”

 

“So then what the fuck do you want?”

 

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Someone else had asked her something similar once, and she’d been too tired and delirious to properly think about the connotations of the phrase, but standing there in the summer sun she was lucid and altogether pissed off. Her patience had already been worn thin when she’d spotted Takahiko flying loops above her head, but it was hanging by a thread now. She snapped her head to glare at the bird, and was only a little warmed by the fact that he flinched under her gaze.

 

“You.” Kagura jammed her fan in his direction. “Fuck off.”

 

Takahiko hesitated and then turned to his master― 

 

“No, don’t look at him, you ass,  _ get lost.”  _

 

If having the spat out bits of a goddess inside her was good for anything, the crane’s bullshit little excuse for a bow was almost sweet as he backed away and took to the air. His master watched him go and turned back to her with a furrow in his brow, he didn’t ask the question, but she could sense his confusion.

 

“I’m going, and?” She opened her arms, palms up, expecting a plea or a lecture on why she shouldn’t.

 

“The last time I didn’t get to see you before you before you went.”

 

Guilt churned in her gut and she almost felt bad for snapping at him, but she quickly buried the feeling.

 

“Okay, bye then.” She wiggled her fingers at him.

 

He took an audible breath and rolled his eyes and then leveled her with a dull stare.

 

“Cut it out.”

 

“Cut what out?” She could be halfway to the continent by now, but instead she was here talking to him. She'd already made her decision.

 

“Doing  _ that,  _ you always get like this when―”

 

 _“I_ don’t do anything!” The winds lashed with her anger. _He_ was going to reprimand _her?_ What a fucking liar. “I don’t need you―whoever the fuck _you_ are―or Fuujin or that fucking bird telling me what I do or what I need to do or what the fuck ever I am.”

 

“Nee-chan―”

 

“Shut up.” Unfamiliar with the concept, but the way he said it, the softness in his voice, made her think it might be affection lacing his tone. Somehow that made it worse. Kagura closed her eyes, tired of it, the spot just behind her brows throbbed, and looking at those violet eyes brimming with so much concern didn’t help anything. Why couldn’t he just leave her be? Things had been easier when they’d been tepid allies, the camaraderie they’d shared had been comfortable when she could still hold him at a distance. They’d shared the same experience then, but she didn’t need his miserable concern or whatever it was lacing the air now.

 

She turned to look over her shoulder, to see the progress the others had made on the carriage and was disappointed to see not much had changed.

 

“If you’re mad at uncle, I don’t blame you,” he said, “but I understand why he did it the way he did.”

 

She rolled her eyes. Fine, she would bite. “And why’s that?”

 

“With us gone he had to do more work.” He shrugged. “And you’ve always been the more stubborn of the two of us, I doubt you would have gone along with it if he’d told you from the start.”

 

“You don’t know me.” The retort sounded pitiful when she'd had the same thought.

 

He chuckled. “I won’t argue it, but you trusted me before, didn’t you?”

 

Kagura grimaced and kept her mouth shut. She had, but being reminded of it now had her clenching her hands into fists. She’d trusted  _ Byakuya,  _ and she wasn’t altogether sure if the man standing before her now was even the same person.

 

“ _ My sister _ ,” he started, seeming to struggle with the words, “you think you’re different, but you aren’t. A millennia of being a goddess, under our father’s thumb, obligated to our family, brothers and sisters who were just as likely to kill us for some perceived spite. Forced to perform our duty for the wellbeing of the natural world. Tied to a shrine so long as the humans made offerings, or stuck up in heaven where the wind can’t reach. Putting all them before ourselves. You wanted your freedom from Naraku, you think it was any different for her?”

 

Kagura tapped her fan against her thigh. “And what makes you so sure that I’m really her?”

 

“Besides the attitude?” He snorted. He held up his hand in front of his face, twirling his fingers as the wind danced between them. “She was a bit better at hiding it, of course. But we’re twins, you know, still have that sixth sense when it comes to you.”

 

She did know. It was how she’d found him in the underworld, how she always knew where he was, even when she didn’t care to. How, now that he was close enough, she could almost tell what he was thinking.

 

“I didn’t mean for things to end up this way,” he said softly, “I didn’t know you’d gone after the mirror, didn’t even know it’d been stolen until I couldn’t sense you anymore…” Kagura looked up, but his gaze was glued to the dirt. The girl was still silent beside him, her eyes on the middle distance and the mirror in question nowhere in sight. “It wasn’t until you’d transformed that I was able to find you, and then, well, you can guess how that turned out.”

 

He waved his hand in front of himself in a mocking display, a snide grin pulling at his cheeks. 

 

“You were always better at combat,” he said, he twirled his fingers again and a rose appeared in his palm, “I’m more suited to the delicate work, but I suppose I was a little cocky when I confronted him, thought that knowing what you’d become would change something.” The rose tore itself apart, petals swirled on a breeze, and though she knew they were nothing more than an illusion, Kagura thought she could smell their sweetness. “I’d ask you what happened if I could, but I can only assume it was the same for both of us. Not even we can stand up to the mirror’s power.”

 

Beside him, the girl’s face was as blank as before, and she didn’t acknowledge when he turned to look at her.

 

“I suppose we weren’t the only ones who were changed, she never had a human form before.”

 

_ Changed?  _ That’s how he wanted to put it?

 

Kagura shut her eyes and took a steadying breath. “Are you going to make me go back?”

 

“No,” he said, and let out a soft snort through his nose, “the opposite in fact.”

 

She looked up at him, her brows furrowed.

 

“I think so long as I’m here it won’t be much of a problem.” He reached into the lapel of his furisode and pulled out a long chain, it jingled with the movement until he tugged it free and revealed a jagged shard of glass dangling from the end of it. She stepped back when he took another forward, but he snatched her hand and held it up between them so he could place the shard gently in her palm, and then closed her fingers around it. His touch was cool against her skin. He released her quickly and stepped back. “Go. Do what you need to. But take this with you, in case you do change your mind.”

 

Something pinched painfully deep in her chest as she held the shard between two fingers in front of her face. With the sun behind her, it reflected the bright light into her eyes for a second, but when her vision cleared, it wasn’t red eyes looking back at her. Her mouth felt dry.

 

“What do I call you?” Because as much as she hated it, as much as her head ached, she certainly felt a little lighter than she had yesterday.

 

“You can still call me Byakuya, if you like,” he said, his gaze drifting up to the sky, “I don’t think either really fits anymore, I suppose I’m both, maybe neither.”

 

Kagura ran her tongue along her teeth, a question sitting heavy in her mouth. Embarrassing, almost, that it was suddenly so hard to speak. Maybe what he said was true, maybe if she took the mirror with her, it wouldn’t matter, but still, curiosity burned down her spine.

 

“When you…” the words stuck in her throat, “did he give you your name?”

 

His eyes softened, a crease forming between his brows. He opened his mouth, but let out a sigh before the words came. “No. He let me choose.”

 

She nodded, keeping her eyes on her feet. 

 

“Nee-chan…”

 

“He named me,” she said softly, “‘ _ Kagura.’  _ A dance for the gods. A sick joke, I suppose.”

 

“It isn’t your true name.” If he meant it as a consolation, it didn’t make her feel any better. She turned just enough to see his face, but kept her head down.

 

“Maybe not,” she swallowed, “but it’s the only one  _ I’ve _ known.”

 

He took a step forward, and the barely there contact of his hand on her shoulder made her flinch. But she didn’t push him off. His hand was warm despite the layers between them.

 

“Nee-chan, you…”

 

“I’m not―” her voice hitched. “He gave me this name to spite me, spite  _ her, _ but it’s… it’s the only name I’ve had while I’ve been…”  _ Free. _

 

A soft sigh left his lips as he stepped forward, inside the bubble she’d placed between them. She kept her eyes fastened on the collar of his furisode, just below his throat, but she could still see the soft smile pulling at his red lips.

 

“Keep it then, take it and run.”

 

"...what?"

 

"Were you not listening to me? I just told you to go," he snorted, "it's not like you to be so conflicted."

 

She straightened. "No. I suppose not."

 

The glass sparkled in her hand, if she squeezed hard enough would it simply shatter or would the edges bite into her skin and turn her into something else? 

 

"Do you regret it?"

 

"Hn?" Byakuya raised a brow. "Regret what?"

 

_ Drinking from the water, whatever you were made to do, what you've become.  _ But instead she waved her hand. "All of it."

 

He barked out a laugh. Maybe he understood. "We live too long for that."

 

She had to shut her eyes as the world began to spin around her, the back of her neck went hot.  _ Kagura  _ had only lived less than a year, but inside that glass shard was countless centuries lived by a stranger. She’d known death and violence and torture, darkness and pain, and there had been times when it hadn’t been so bad, when she’d made her own choices and lived as herself for herself. Was it worth it to give that up for the possibility of pleasant memories? If what he said was true, she’d only be gaining more chains.

 

The eyes that stared back at her from within the mirror’s shard were her own, regardless of the color and shape, but she already knew the decision behind them. She slipped the chain around her neck and hid the shard beneath the layers of her robes. It was cold against her skin, but warmed quite quickly. 

 

“What will happen to her?” she asked, patting her chest to settle the shard and gesturing weakly at the mirror girl.

 

He tilted his chin. “She’ll return to stay at the shrine, it’s where she belongs.”

 

“Is that what you want?” she asked, never taking her eyes off of the mirror girl as she crossed her arms. She needed to be sure. Kanna blinked, and finally something like recognition flashed through those silver eyes.

 

“The shrine… is home,” her voice hadn’t changed, still just as soft and careful, and somehow Kagura took comfort from that. “You will go.”

 

“Yes,” she nodded.

 

The girl’s expression remained neutral, cold and calm and somehow that was a greater consolation than anything Byakuya could have said. 

 

“No one’s going to come looking are they?”

 

Byakuya shrugged and snorted. “Maybe, I can’t speak for anyone else in the family, but I think you’ll be alright.”

 

She nearly breathed a sigh of relief― 

 

“But…” he sucked his lip between his teeth, and through whatever bond they shared he must have felt her irritation. “There is one, well,  _ person…” _

 

He straightened and quirked his shoulder, pushing it forward. “Stop hiding, would you?”

 

Kagura craned her neck, her eyes a little wide and brows bunched together, trying to see whatever it was he spoke to. It wasn’t until he completely turned his back to her that she could see the white fuzz clinging to his vest, spanning the entirety of his torso. No, not white, patches of black stained the fur and thin stretched skin― 

 

“ _ You _ !” The bat from the shrine.

 

It flinched at her voice, and clung tighter to the fabric along Byakuya’s shoulder blades, it’s eyes scrunched tight and it’s body shaking, it buried its face into his spine. How she hadn’t noticed it there… 

 

“Urue,” he said, reaching over and gently prying it’s fingers from his clothes he pulled it over his shoulder until he could hold it upside down in front of his face. It only hid itself within it’s wings. “Stop that.”

 

Slowly, the speckled thing unfurled, first a nose poking out from behind it’s wing, and then a single blood red eye.

 

“Has that been there the whole time?!” She’d gone soft if she hadn’t noticed  _ that  _ clinging just behind his back.

 

“She’s your familiar,” Byakuya said, and just as suddenly dropped it. The bat didn’t seem to mind, though it hit the dirt with a solid thud and quickly prostrated itself before her. “She’s been ill for awhile, but I think it’s finally settled.”

 

“Please forgive me, Shinatobe-sama!” It’s voice was muffled in the dirt, though there was an edge of tears, just a little bubbly. “I was unable to assist you when you needed me and now this is the result. This form may not be as appealing, but I swear that I will atone! I will uphold your will and will serve you as a faithful and obedient―”

 

“Oh, shut up.” Kagura covered her face with her fan and gave Byakuya a wary glance, he shrugged.

 

“I told you we weren’t the only ones that changed.” 

 

“Were they both this annoying before?” The bat shrank in on herself.

 

“My apologies! I will try to―”

 

“Stop stop stop.” Kagura waved her fan. “What are you expecting me to do with it?”

 

“Take her with you, obviously.” 

 

“What?  _ No _ . Why the hell would I do that?”

 

“If you leave her behind she’ll probably die.”

 

She rounded on him. “‘ _ Probably’?” _

 

He shrugged. “Never seen it happen, but neither of them were doing well while we were gone.” 

 

At least it would explain why the crane had been looking so sickly and was now miraculously healed. Kagura gave the flying fox a disdainful look down her nose, fighting the urge to wind up and kick it beyond the line of shrubs, if the little idiot was so eager to please it might just let her do it. 

 

Huh. Maybe something like that wouldn’t be so bad.

 

“Fine,” Kagura finally bit out. “I’ll take her.”

 

The bat smashed her face into the ground further than Kagura thought possible and muttered something that was probably just more devotion and promises while Kagura gave Byakuya a look that said “are you serious?” He returned it with a mischievous smirk, but she could sense the underlying edge of gloom behind it.

 

“Are you really fine with this?” she heard herself ask. Because as much as he said that it was fine that she go, she knew he didn’t really mean it. The thread that connected them was still strong, but distance would wear it thin, and she could feel his fear of it. 

 

“Who am I to stop you? I’m just your brother.” He held up a hand before she could open her mouth. “I know, I know, ‘I’m not your sister’,” he mocked, “whatever. Maybe you’re not, but I’m still your brother.”

 

She was glad she’d sent the crane away, that the bat still had her face in the dirt and Kanna stared off somewhere beyond the horizon, because she was sure that she was showing more on her face than she cared to, given the way her eyes stung. Byakuya didn’t comment on it, though he could probably feel it regardless of what he saw. She shut her eyes to will it away and after several silent seconds finally opened her eyes again.

 

“Thanks.” 

 

“Don’t get all sappy on me now.” he said, and chuckled when she schooled her face into a grimace. “I think they’re calling for you.”

 

When she turned back she saw Momiji waving at her. Her heart clenched, an unbidden thought telling her that she didn’t  _ have  _ to go, but another answered just as fiercely that she’d already made the decision.

 

“I should get going.”

 

He huffed out a sigh. “Just be careful, would you? I don’t want to have to traipse halfway round the world looking for you again.”

 

“I’ll be sure not to need it this time.”

 

“Everybody needs somebody, even gods and youkai, or both,” he said, “just keep in mind, you may be a goddess by right, but you may as well be a child compared to what you could do before.”

 

“Hn.” A grin overtook her face. “I suppose I’ll just have to learn it all over again. I’ve got the time.”

 

He mirrored her expression, his lips pulling away from his teeth. “I’ll see you around then.”

 

“Yeah.” She wondered if he expected a hug or some other form of affection, Kohaku and the taijiya had always done things like that, hadn’t they? But Byakuya shook his head and gave her a small wave, for which she was silently grateful.

 

Kagura gave Kanna one last glance, and for once the girl met her eyes, though her expression didn’t change but she supposed that that was the most extreme goodbye she could expect. Feeling awkward, she gave Byakuya a weak then turned on her heel stiffly and started on her way down the hill, the bat’s soft footsteps following after her. She felt his gaze burning holes into her back, anyone else she might have minded, but somehow it only felt warm.

 

“Your lover?” Momiji tittered when she was close enough, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips.

 

“No, he’s…” Kagura shook her head and found that the truth was easier than a lie. “He’s my brother.”

 

A much less titillating answer than the oni had expected, Momiji gave the bat trudging along behind her the briefest glance, and then turned away with a shrug and a shake of her head, she gave three sharp thuds with the butt of her fist against the carriage.

 

“Alright, let’s head out!” 

 

Kagura plucked a feather from her hair, declining to ride inside or on top of the carriage with the others. She gave one final glance back, catching sight of Byakuya and Kanna standing in the shadows of the trees. He gave her one last wave that she returned with a nod before tossing the feather into the air.

 

The wind lifted her up, the eddies buoying her until the carriage joined her in the sky; the flying fox wasn’t too far behind, though she struggled on weak wings, still unsure of her new form. Kagura would have let her be if she didn’t look so pitiful.

 

“You won’t be able to keep up like that.” She heard herself say, and gestured behind her with her chin, indicating the empty space left on her feather. The bat gave it a glance and then nodded.

 

“Of course, Shinatobe-sama.” She drifted close enough to settle her weight along the spine, unaware of the sneer that had pulled at Kagura’s lip.

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

Urue looked up at her, her mammalian features more intelligible than that of the crane’s, a tiny crease in her brow as she tried and failed to make the appropriate eye contact. The little bat nodded again and dipped her head low.

 

“I understand,” she whispered against her folded wings, “Kagura-sama.”

 

Satisfied, she turned forward and kept her gaze steady on the horizon, ignoring her passenger and the eyes on her back, the safety she could return to if she wished. Ahead, the mountains of the continent were still nothing more than specks above the water’s edge, but she could feel the change in the wind as they crossed the sea, the winds of her homeland tugging on her sleeves, pleading for her to return. She kept on, the sea spray tickling her feather as fingers carded through her hair, over her skin, eyes and lips, mapping every inch of who she was; the stranger in their lands.

 

Not a god. Not an incarnation. Not youkai or wind witch.

 

She turned to the wind and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So this is it, the end of part II. Will there be a part 3? 4? Tbh, i don’t know. I have a handful of ideas for stories that span the 3 year gap, but right now nothing is fleshed out enough (or in any kind of chronological order) for me to feel comfortable starting on it. I am going to mark this as complete, but maybe if anything I’ll do non-chronological vignettes to get the most important stuff out of the way? Probably would be updated sporadically, but if anyone has any asian myths (specifically Southeast, South, Mongolian, Chinese, or Korean), folk/fairy tales, interesting 16th century history (~1550), or prompts/something they’d like to see touched on, feel free to let me know! I know a lot about Japanese culture/history/religion, but not so much the rest of Asia, so I’m very open to ideas!
> 
> Now, all of you who were looking out for sesskagu goodness, don’t worry! I’m not giving up on the sequel, so if everyone would just kindly leave a review/fave/kudoes etc, and then head over to my profile, you will find the first chapter of the sequel “Sastruga” has been posted and should already be visible on my page.
> 
> To all of you who have been keeping up with this, reviewing and favoriting, thank you all so much! It really means a lot and I hope this has lived up to your expectations!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, this is loosely based on a fic I had posted on FF.net back in 2012 called "The Scent of the Wind". I never finished it and can't now for sheer embarrassment. I've changed a lot of things, amended a lot of loose ends and cringey things. That section of this story won't pick up for awhile, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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